
Qass FK^^ O 1 
Book_ 1_ 



THE 



HOURS, 

IN FOUR IDYLLS. 



H 0%3> 



HENRY HUDSON, Esq. 



Les Muses sont des abeilles volages, 
Leur gout voltige, il fuit les longs ouvrages., 
Et ne prenant que la fleur d'un sujet, 
Vole bientdt sur un nouvel objet. 

Gresset. Ver-veit. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, 
STRAND. 

1817. 






By Transfer 
Geological Survey 

DEC 8 1932 



G. WOODEALL, PRINTER, ANGEL COURT, SKINNEH STREET, LONDON. 



PREFACE. 



At a time when the romance in rhyme so 
frequently issues from the British press, the fol- 
lowing poem is offered to the public, in hopes 
that variety, at least, will recommend its pe- 
rusal. It is not at present intended to point 
out the advantages or defects peculiar to de- 
scriptive poetry, but perhaps it may be worth 
observing, that the term idyll, here adopted as 
one of the most unassuming, is not applicable 
to any kind of poem in particular : by Theo- 
critus, Statius, Ausonius, and others, it has 
been Variously used, and, in fact, signifies no- 
thing more than a picture or representation. 



IV PREFACE. 

The change of measure here resorted to for 
variety, seemed by custom to call for the intro- 
duction of rhyme, although Collins's beautiful 
Ode to Evening, and some others in the English 
language, might perhaps have well warranted 
the rejection of so trifling an appendage. The 
subject of a brief story in the third idyll was 
suggested by the recollection of a tale, read 
several years ago in some periodical publication. 



%%t Hours. 



FOUR IDYLLS. 



MORNING. 



IDYLL I. 



Prologue — Sunrise over an English landscape in the Spring, with 
the commencement of rural labour — Italian scenery — The dawn 
unfolding over a desert region of Mount Atlas : over a cultivated 
Mexican prospect — in the South Seas — Morning described in a 
city — Rural scene — Scene on the sea-coast — The beautiful ap- 
pearance of the sky indicative of storms — A tempestuous autumnal 
morning described — A winter's morning — Variety of sensations 
affecting man on the developement of this hour — A tale. 



b2 



%ty ^ours?. 



IDYLL I. 



vXvQev Hwf, 

Xptyl. ^'a^ olvTfl 



KoVgOU \wK\OK<X,pol. 6V<ddex.tX,, met jus^\jv 

QUINT. CALAE. PARAL. lib. 2. 



O'er the softly swelling deep, 

Where, wrapt in gloom, lone midnight lies, 
Reviving Nature breaks the bonds of sleep, 

And bids the rosy mantled Hours arise. 

Lo ! dissolving clouds of gold 
Realms of streaming light unfold, 
While from Ocean's sparkling verge, 
A smiling train, the maids emerge; 



Wtft 2|our& 



IDYLL I. 



c'fA<Pt ¥ag' cIvtw 



Kovgou IxiirXoKOCfjiot dvwdtKO,, rtin jU£|u,»iAsy 

QUINT. CALAB. PAEAL. lib. 



O'er the softly swelling deep* 

Where, wrapt in gloom, lone midnight lies, 
Reviving Nature breaks the bonds of sleep, 

And bids the rosy mantled Hours arise. 

Lo ! dissolving clouds of gold 
Realms of streaming light unfold, 
While from Ocean's sparkling verge, 
A smiling train, the maids emerge; 



Still as they rise more lovely seem, 
And brighten like a fairy dream. 

Now across the dun expanse, 
On purple wing, they swift advance, 
And shed, as fair their features glow, 
Glad influence on a world below: 
But trace we, changeful as they fly, 
Their course in rhymeless melody. 

Retiring slow before the radiant sheet 
Of amber, that still reddens o'er the hills, 
Grey twilight quits the plain, and dubious hangs 
Beside the eastern cliff, while deeper shades 
Reluctant brighten o'er the gloomwrapt dell. 
Dissolving, with each faint ethereal spark, 
In liquid azure, red Orion fades ; 
Whilst the bright herald of returning morn 
Shoots forth her silver beams, and gently heaves 
In paler lustre on the restless wave. 
But half-discovered through the dusk, at first 
Scarce known, each rural object gradual takes 
Its wonted form, till beauteous reappears, 
Though still in sombre charms, the landscape round. 
At length across the glowing welkin darts 
On western ridge the swift-ascending sun, 
And fires its rugged front; each moment sheds 



IDYLL I. MORNING. 

Down its dunraantled side a broader blaze 
Of vivid glory. In their bowers rejoice 
The silvan choristers, and dew-bright flow'rs, 
In all the gay exuberance of spring, 
Unfold their Washing petals to exhale 
Their grateful tribute in the passing breeze. 

Lo ! on the rampir'd castle's ancient pride 
Refulgent strikes the ray. Of changeful hue, 
The sullen haze that veils the slope beneath 
"Withstands awhile its power, then opens wide, 
And, in majestic sweep receding, shews 
The darksome umbrage of its woody stole. 
Peer from embow'ring elms the village spire, 
And square-embattled tow'r, whose shifting vane 
Gleams with the new-born light, which still descends, 
And, gilding the dark sepulchre below, 
Scares wizard Superstition from his nook. 

Upwafted high in tremulous ascent 
The skylark plies her wing, and as she mounts 
In sweetest harmony salutes the morn; 
Exulting dares the cock with clarion clear 
His bold antagonist. The chorus join 
Rome's trusty guardians, to the neighb'ring pool 
In early progress ; and elate amongst 



8 MORNING. IDYLL K 

The feather'd throng, in all his glory spreads 
The crested peacock his irradiate train. 

To harmony awoke, the coppice pours 
The many varied lay. From ev'ry fence 
Some trilling strain resounds. From the tall oak, 
In bushy foliage hid, the cuckoo oft 
Repeats her wonted song ; and distant heard, 
From the dark fir-grove cooes the turtle-dove. 

In the closed homestall low the kine, intent 
On the green pasture, that, adjacent, spreads 
Its dewy surface far. The bleating flock, 
In the near fold expectant, seems to blame 
The slumb'ring shepherd. See, at length he comes, 
But not in semblance he of gentle swain, 
Of dainty wight, in pastoral romance ? 
Sighing for lady's love ; but singing blythe 
Incondite strain ; in homely garb inwrapt, 
Ruddy and strong, roughstriding o'er the, clod. 

And is the call of labour prompt to rouse 
Her yet more toiling sons. Leads forth his charge. 
The carter-boy still loose, and on his way 
Regardless loit'ring, th' angry ploughman's curse 
Provokes. Together link'd at length his team, 



IDYLL I. MORNING. 

In their trim gear exulting, toss their heads, 

And haste a-field. Already to his task 

The sower hies, and o'er the furrow'd soil 

His burthen scatters ; or, with nicer art, 

Marks out in equidistant rows his course ; 

Which, when adorn'd with springing verdure, seems 

The cultur'd garden. Near at hand the rook 

His progress marks, anon with busy host 

To blacken the wide field, and hold in scorn 

The howling boy, or idol guard array'd 

In all the terrors that his wit supplies. 

In the wide open'd barn the whirling flail, 
With regular successive stroke, resounds 
To greet the farmer's ear ; or chiming bells, 
That note his wain on passage to the mart, 
Warn him of gain and raise the joyous smile; 
Till summing up his profit, he repines 
To think how poor is honest labour's thrift ; 
How rich the lazy splendour of the Great. 

Delightful science, in pursuit of gain 
Thy sister Commerce has outstript thee far ; 
Yet in Contentment's ever tranquil seat, 
Thy pleasing cares shall still relax in smiles 
Philosophy's strain'd brow : thy useful toil 
Shall nerve the patriot warrior's ready arm ; 



10 MORNING. IDYLL 

In thy secluded walks shall Censors muse, 
And Cincinnati wait the call of Fame. 



Beams over eastern regions a full flood 
Of peerless glory; over gardens deck'd 
With variegated bloom, conspicuous, where 
The tulip with its cluster'd dewstars glows, 
And late its half-blown beauties that disclos'd 
To tuneful nightingales, in all its charms, 
In all its fragrance, spreads the Persian rose. 
But let the bard of bright Iran pourtray 
The bounteous prospect, and then, grateful, bend 
In humble adoration to his God. 

Fair o'er Achaia, o'er Ausonia fair, 
Blushes the balmy hour. O'er ruins grey 
In groves embosom'd. Over silver lakes, 
On whose romantic shores their pinnacles 
Thick peopl'd cities point ; along the heights 
Of rugged Appennine imparting joy, 
In contrast to the gloom of many a dell 
As Vallombrosa dark. See bright'ning now 
The liquid mirrors of innumerous streams, 
Rolling in serpent course o'er meadows green 
To thee, Eridanus, in tribute; king 
Of fertilizing floods, the fav'rite theme 
Of Poet's song, e'en to those distant times, 



IDYLL I. MORNING-. 1 1 

When the rash youth, by Jove's unerring bolt 
Struck from his radiant car, with blazing: locks 
Plung'd headlong, like a meteor, in thy waves. 

Lo, wand'ring changeful thus o'er classic ground, 
Imagination rests on thee, great bard, 
By soft-ey'd Naiads woo'd; by Muses taught, 
Contending who should first impose a wreath 
Upon thy infant brow, and lead thee forth 
To fame immortal. On thy Mantuan farm, 
Marks thee to list'ning shepherds tuning soft 
Sicilian strains, melodious as were those, 
With which, thy master on his Doric reed, 
Or Etna's steeps, or Arethusa's bank 
Enliven'd. Now beholds thee lost in thought 
On some high promontory, beetling bold 
O'er rough Benacus, by its mountain blast 
Assail'd, and heaving with the sudden storm. 

Beauteous the scene where placid Arno flows, 
Hallow'd by thee, Lorenzo, to the Muse, 
And thy illustrious grandsire; when the sun 
Of learning broke refulgent o'er the soul, 
As now Hyperion o'er a glowing world. 
Beauteous, where, with her ancient oaks begirt, 
Acquapendente shews her grottoes hoar 
Half hid in shade; where spreads Bolsena wide 



12 MORNING. IDYLL 

With verdant isle, and castellated cliff, 

And mingling groves adorn'd, her radiant sheet. 

From hence more southward note we the cascades 
Of Tivoli, where many a torrent clear, 
Peering through boxen grove, meanders wild; 
Or intermediate the fair prospect, where 
In foam Velino, thund'ring down its steep 
Of darksome rock, precipitate impels 
To Tibur's ampler flood resounding Nar. 
Imperial Tibur, tow'rs upon whose bank, 
In gloomy grandeur, sanctified repose, 
Proud of her crumbling ruins, ancient Rome ; 
Still boastful of those days, when Triumph led 
With terror pale, with bootless anger fir'd, 
Or coward shame abash'd, barbaric bands 
Enshackl'd through her street; though now averse 
To enterprise and arms, and long unus'd 
To the rude conflict of infuriate War. 

O'er realms, where Mauritanian Atlas piles 
High in blue ether his disjointed chain, 
By twilight mingled in deep mass of shade, 
Shapeless and huge, with brilliant verge of gold 
Distinctly tracing each impurpled crag 
The landscape glows, and straight his range immense 
Of tow'ring cliff displays, here bright with rock 



IDYLL I. MORNING. 13 

And burnish'd precipice, there chequer'd dark 

With cave, and brake, and woods of waving pine ; 

In the soft semblance of a fleecy cloud 

In distance seen, then sinking into nought 

Close on th' horizon's marge. Delightful scene 

Of rude and vast magnificence ! but here, 

No pleasing note of shepherd to his flock 

Returning strikes the ear; no echoing cry 

Of jocund huntsman, winding through the dale, 

Awakes the soul to joy; the savage howl, 

And mingled roar, that on the blast of night, 

Struck terror through the wild, at rising dawn 

Sinks into sullen murmur, and at length 

In silence dies away. Full gorg'd with blood 

The lion couches at the cavern's mouth, 

And smooths his clotted mane; or yawning spreads 

Loose on his grassy lair his giant limbs; 

"While animated nature sleeps around 

In deep repose; save where from their haunts 

Bright speckled snakes uplift their graceful heads, 

And through the matted brake in silence glide 

To bask in glitt'ring ringlets on the green. 

Here are the vivid charms of nature lost 
To contemplative man. No human foot 
Treads the warm glade, the breezy summit scales, 
Or penetrates the thorn-entangled maze 



14 MORNING. ID"! 

Of the deep thicket. Haply o'er the steep 
Descending slow, winds on its wonted way 
The Moorish Caravan; o'er scorching sands 
To roam unnoticed, and on traffic bent, 
Inhuman traffic, the scant harmless race 
Of central Afric to diminish more, 
And lay them fetter'd at some tyrant's foot. 

Serene, ascending o'er the deep blue vault 
Of purest skies; on snow-capt mountain's top, 
And dim volcano, shines the golden orb, 
In trans- Atlantic realm ; revealing wide, 
Beyond the tropic, a relucent world 
Of cloud-encircled steep, of upland plain, 
Of lawn and forest, cataract and lake, 
In rich diversity. From brighten'd grove, 
Exuding liquid amber, and fresh tears 
Of medicinal balm, far wafts the gale 
Ambrosial fragrance. Intermingling boughs 
Of leaf, and flow'r, and fruit, at once display 
Their varied splendour. O'er their tops, allur'd' 
From covert shades, innumerable wings 
Of azure and bright scarlet hov'ring light, 
An undulating canopy extend 
Too vivid for the eye. Profusion fair, 
Beyond whate'er of paradise hath sung 
Enraptur'd bard. Nor destitute the scene 



IDYLL I. MORNING. 15 

Of cultivated mead, corn- waving field, 

Flocks and brown herds o'er many a verdant knoll 

Inclining devious ; city, village, farm, 

And tufted cottage. Venerable peers, 

In lonely glade, the broken pyramid, 

Tomb of some ancient chief, who haply rais'd 

In vain against invasion his bold arm. 

And here, in mitigation of the wrongs 
Invasion offers, might be urg'd the plea 
Humanity prefers; had that alone 
Prompted th' aggressive bands; as to the mind 
The mould'ring walls of some barbaric fane 
Those pristine rites recall, foul with the blood 
Of human victim, in profusion shed 
For loathsome banquet ; such as struck thine eye, 
Hernando, when far-gleaming brands illum'd 
Thy naked comrades, in horrific dance 
Round the grim god of war, and pierc'd thine ear, 
In piteous shrieks, the well-known voice of each 
Submitting to his fate, till torture's hand 
Tore from his breast the palpitating heart, 
For impious off'ring at an idol's shrine. 

Increasing still in industry and arts 
Will these vast regions shine. As Europe yields 
Her splendour and renown, and spreads again 



16 MORNING. IDYLL L, 

Her black impenetrable forests wide; 
In Amazonian plains shall cities rise, 
, In commerce rich ; to Orinoko's banks 
Shall plenty, science, elegance resort, 
"When the rude shores of Tagus and of Seine, 
A dreary wilderness, shall scarce afford 
The starving savage a precarious meal. 

But,* lo ! yon wide rent chasm, whose fractur'd walls, 
High rear'd, so aptly corresponding, seem 
A mountain cleft in twain, invites my song, 
Though in faint strain unequal, to review 
The ruinous cause, whose subterranean shock, 
Resistless bursting the firm-crusted globe, 
Works direful change ; whose desolating course, 
More rapid far than are the death-wing'd shafts 
Of pestilence or war, more terrible 
Than rage of wildest hurricane, appall'd 
Bears down whole congregations to the grave. 
Deep hollow murmurs, whence unknown, denote 
The fatal hour at hand; far from its shores 
Retires the sea, relinquishing awhile 
Its rugged caverns naked, to return 
In sweeping deluge, o'er the high cliff toss'd 
Stranding on inland hill the shatter'd bark. 
A few slight tremors first, with strange alarm, 
And dire foreboding fill the tranquil pause 



17 



That brief succeeds : then rapid rushes on 
Stupendous ruin. Heav'd from their broad base, 
The snow-capt mount, and promontory huge, 
To distant fields transporting flocks and herds, 
Incline their crumbling heads. Convuls'd, the plain 
Yawns wide, and from its entrails vomits forth, 
In torrents, flood and flame. Deep in the gulf 
At once the city sinks, in full renown, 
In all the pride of commerce, arts, and arms, 
Leaving; to after-ages but a name. 
Or, rudely shaken by some hand unseen, 
On man's devoted head destruction pours, 
And dome and spire, and battlement and tovv'r, 
At the same moment nod; then prone to ground 
Down dash'd, with long reverberated roar 
Of loudest thunder, heap their ruins high, 
Entombing thousands. These, in sudden flight 
Arrested, singly perish. Those in throngs, 
Who haply might have scap'd, delay'd, alas ! 
By piety ill-tim'd, while the pale priest 
Grasping his cross led onward to the fane, 
And undesigning certified their doom. 
Such the dire visitation thou hast known, 
Fair Lima; Arequipa, such thy fate, 
And harsher still, thine, Riobamba, now 
No more, of thy locality not e'en 
A monument, a vestige left behind. 
c 



18 MORNING. IDYLL 

In southern clime beyond the distant track 
Of Capricorn ; o'er solitary seas 
Heaving immense th' unbroken range of wave 
Broad daylight spreads, in splendour o'er a waste 
To shine unseen, or mantle the steep walls 
Of some volcanic isle, uprear'd amid 
A boundless deluge. Haply there remain, 
Dissever'd from their race, in quest of skins 
Of herds marine that bask abundant round, 
By need reduc'd, a small advent'rous band, 
Climbing expectant each returning morn 
The highest crag, to view their wish'd for bark 
Beyond its promis'd time so long delay'd. 
As thus in hope the seasons roll away, 
At long, drear intervals, each distant sail 
Is hail'd with joy ; but so is hail'd, alas ! 
To pass them by, and leave them still forlorn. 

Perchance, but one survivor left at last, 
Lies him despondent on the barren cliff, 
Where loose the tatter'd garment streams in air 
His only ensign ; on surrounding waves 
Poring contemplative ; o'er their hoar tops, 
Pleas'd, when the wheeling sea-bird wings her way ; 
Pleas'd with the varying forms of floating clouds, 
Of rugged* shadows from impending rocks 
Thrown dark and distant; from distressful thought 



IUifLL I. MORNING. 19 

A brief diversion. So pass the dull hours, 

Till sleep succeeds ; from whose protracted dream 

Awaking sudden, on some blissful day, 

Near and full booming on his isle he sees 

The friendly vessel ; answers her glad hail, 

Pouring resistless the full flood of joy. 

But let attention rest, from distant shores 
Returning, o'er more hospitable realms : 
And hark, the city stirs. With thund'ring wheel, 
And ring of iron'd hoof, in distance breaks 
The sullen murmur first, then swelling, join'd 
By the rude dissonance of countless tongues, 
Soon thickens into loud tumultuous din. 
Gradual along the quay and early mart 
Is seen assembling man ; while the broad stream, 
That wafts abundance down its peopled shores, 
Is yet immers'd in shade, or partial shews 
A line of light, from blazing windows glanc'd 
O'er its dun wave, as the unwelcome sun 
Makes pale the festive tapers of the hall, 
Where revelry still dances out the hour 
Untir'd and heedless ; or unwilling steals 
Through the close grate of some sad captive's cell, 
Waking to sigh the victim of despair : 
To muse o'er pleasures past, then sink a prey 
To present sorrow; haply ere the chimes 
c 2 



20 MORNING. IDYI 

Have clos'd th' existing hour, to be led forth 

Amid a gazing multitude, to breathe 

His last upon the scaffold : Ah ! how oft 

The final scene of virtue as of vice ; 

The gaol of guiltless, and of guilty kings ; 

Where the firm patriot ends a life of toil, 

And heroes who have conquer'd, who have bled 

To guard their country's weal, yield to their doom, 

Unhonour'd by the vacillating crowd. 

Milder and milder still the tepid air 
Diffuses balm around, and grateful spreads 
A fost'ring influence. Tempted by the glow, 
Last of all creatures, from their little cells, 
By man scarce noted, on each leaf and twig 
Disport the insect tribe ; or light extend 
The glitt'ring wing, and to the gentle breeze 
Resign'd, flit devious o'er the sunny field. 
Bright as the flower he wooes, conspicuous shines 
The butterfly; gay rival of the bee 
On each emblossom'd bank, and thoughtless borne 
Close to the streamlet's eddy, from his haunt 
Alluring to the surface the keen trout, 
The russet mayfly strikes the angler's eye. 

Refulgent winding o'er the verdant mead, 
That to the grasp of many a youthful hand 



235YLL I. MORNING. 21 

Its sweets resigns, of glowing buttercup, 

And pale-starr'd daisy, the fresh stream affords 

To playful boys for holiday releas'd 

A healthful bath. Upon its marge they sport 

Assembled thick ; or stooping from high bank 

For headlong plunge, or on the sandy shoal 

Emergent, gleaming with embrighten'd back 

Through rushes green : a gay, much envied band, 

And oft ey'd wishful by less joyous wight 

To school slow-creeping, and from hated page 

Low-mumbling on his way, and loit'ring still, 

At each cross-path, the new-bought taw to try ; 

Which, in despite of pedagogue's dark frown 

For task unknown, will o'er his mind prevail. 

Buxom amid her speckled herd, aloud 
The milk-maid chants; while wand'ring distant, lows, 
'Reft of her calf, some joyless cow, in vain 
Pouring her plaint in long repeated moans, 
Adown the covert side resounding far. 

Where rude hoar-crested billows lash the beach, 
Through high-rebounding spray the fisher heaves 
His boat astrand. Eager behind him strive 
The weather-beaten comrades of his toil, 
And many a swelling sail, and lab'ring oar 
Press in sharp contest first to reach the shore, 



22 MORNING. IDYLL I. 

And gain the mart. Beneath the night's dark cope, 

And noontide's shadeless beam, their little fleet 

Has rode the wave ; at ev'ning from the cliff 

Upon the horizon's verge by shepherd seen, 

And from the loftier promontory's brow, 

As dusky spots on the resplendent face 

Of ocean's middle waste. Unlading now, 

Th' awaiting crowd assist the crews to land 

The plenteous freight, whose silver-mottled sides 

Shine bright, as leaping on the sand they feel 

Th' unusual influence of the solar beam. 

Anon, in order rude is borne along 

Some black and shapeless monster of the deep, 

And circulates the tale, in landsman's ear 

To swell the wonders of the liquid realm. 

O'er ether's surface the light broken clouds 
Accumulate, of ever-changing hue 
With burnish'd scales invest the radiant vault, 
And from deep purple kindling into gold, 
Seem one vast panoply. Th' emblazon'd wave 
Reflects the lustre, and on ev'ry side 
The face of nature reddens : as the swain 
Peeps from his glowing cottage, and observes 
The bright prognostic of the brooding storm. 
Yet all around is beauteous, all benign, 
And gentle. Winnow'd by Favonian breath 



IDYLL I. MORNING. 

Scarce moves the pensile bough ; to curious eye 
Though knotted clover shews th' inverted lea£ 
And lax the petal of half-closing flow'r. 

How unlike this fair scene, the prospect drear 
That Autumn, boisterous in her wane, displays, 
Dank with loud show'r, with blast infuriate. Then, 
Howling in darkness through the lengthen'd night, 
With aggravated force the tempest raves, 
And morning mantled in a streaming cloud 
Breaks faintly o'er the landscape, to illume 
The devastation round. The roofless tow'r 
Nods in the gale. The venerable oaks, 
That have so long withstood the rude assault 
Of each revolving equinox, to ground 
Have bow'd their branching heads, or o'er the park, 
Strewn thickly, shew their huge dissever'd limbs : 
Wide in the vale beneath the deluge foams, 
With roar incessant, flashing on the ear 
Yet louder in the wind, until upheav'd 
By the resistless current from its pier, 
Sinks floundering in the waves the pond'rous arch. 

Of fretted rocks impetuous o'er its bed, 
With ampler flood, in circling foam descends 
The Cambrian cataract ; by many a rill 
That Summer knew not, o'er inclining heights 



24 MORNING. IDYLL I. 

Of pasture trickling fast, in tribute swell'd ; 
Till with its thunder the rough mountain shakes, 
And long and loud the hollow valley moans 
In sullen echo: near the half-stript thorn, 
In penetrable shelter, girds him close, 
List'ning its changeful sound, the shepherd hind. 

Glad from his kindred dream the huntsman turns, 
And early follows to the field his pack ; 
Whose spirit-stirring melody awakes 
Life's dullest hour to bliss. Unkennel'd, see, 
From his thick covert the sly plunderer steals, 
And tries the open plain : fast on his steps 
The tumult doubles. Exultation speeds, 
On falcon pennons, the pursuing throng; 
And hill and dale, and level, swamp, and flood, 
In distance swift, retire beneath the bound 
Of loose-rein'd steed. But who can fully paint 
The transports wild that animate the soul 
Throughout the short-liv'd hour : of horse and hound 
The rival ardor. Thy aspiring muse, 
Experienc'd Somerville, could scarce attain 
A height sufficient for so bold a theme ; 
Yet on thy brow as fair a chaplet blooms, 
As e'er immortaliz'd didactic bard. 



IDYLL I. MORNING- 25 

While the grey dawn with light dissolving clouds 

Mantles the vault of heav'n, and falling leaves, 

With early frost besilver'd, twinkle bright, 

O'er filmy stubble blythe the fowler hies; 

Before him cautious his fleet pointer bounds, 

Impatient to snufFup the tainted breeze, 

And by forbearance, eager to beguile 

The watchful covey. On his image fix'd 
To ground, and motionless, their wond'ring ken 
Revolves ; now with mistrust and fear beheld, 
As near he draws, they run; or cow'ring low 
And meditating flight, awhile remain 
Uncertain. By the gunner's hasty step 
At length alarm'd, on whirring wing aloft 
They mount confus'd, arrested in his course, 
And falling prone, or flutt'ring to the ground. 
Leaving the stricken victim to his fate. 

Now, ere the season lose its leafy stole, 
Would inclination prompt to name ill song 
The feather'd game, alluring to the field 
Of exercise and health. Yet while the moor 
Glows in its florid beauties, to pursue, 
In numbers meet, o'er purple hill and dale 
The grouse and heathcock; to recount the wiles, 
From matted clover flush'd, of stealthy crake ; 
Or rouse the changeling quail, to southern clime 



26 MORNING. IDYLL I. 

Delaying still his flight. But are there those, 

Of mild Braminic bosom, who abhor, 

As wanton cruelty of tyrant man, 

Th' enliv'ning sport. Among his fellow men 

Though he may well regard himself as pure, 

Whose hands were never stain'd with other blood; 

Whose lust for pow'r or fame ne'er led him on 

To human butchery, and made the scenes 

Of war familiar ; and whose only guile 

Is practis'd in the chase. Perchance to some 

'Twere yet more pleasing to depict at large 

Th'aerial conflict, and the clouds among 

Soar with the dauntless falcon, as he dares 

His noblest quarry, with protended beak, 

Fierce darting on him now the stroke of death; 

By his bold successor on wary wing 

Now baffled, wearied out, and yielding; while 

His bloody pounces deep the victor strikes, 

Scatters his plumy honours in the blast, 

And brings him down triumphant. But enough. 

To narrower bounds restrain'd, our varying song 

Shall leave to abler bard th'enliv'ning theme. 

How unlike this fair scene, the tardy dawn 
Leads on drear winter; o'er the dun expanse 
Of heav'n impelling swift the buoyant cloud; 
While still beneath his humble roof secure, 



27 



In slumber lies the clown ; or waking turns 
To his dark casement an inquiring eye, 
And sinks again to rest. No voice without 
Is heard amid the gloom. In other realms, 
From mountain -side, alone the starveling wolf 
Howls to the hollow blast that strips the brake, 
And leaves his cold lair naked to the show'r. 

Or is the half-illumin'd landscape lost 
In dense o'erhanging mist. Faint leafless elms 
Scarce mark the hedge-row, as the ploughman speeds 
His team, or leaves uncleft the harden'd clod, 
'Till noon-tide spread its fervour o'er the field 
Propitious to his toil. Deep glows the cheek 
Of smiling urchin as he slides the path ; 
Or seeks the pool where trembling willows weep 
Their chrystal tears, and sudden darts aloft, 
From crispy sedge, the shrill-complaining snipe, 
Lost in a moment to his wond'ring eye. 

Together shelter'd from tli" inclement breeze, 
That from the East impels the flaky shower, 
Secure the cattle rest. By th' owner's eye, 
Oft measur'd those, with well replenish'd crib, 
That on their high-heap'd fodder pamper'd blow, 
In luxury extreme ; while steal around, 
For the rejected handful suing hard, 



28 MORNING. IDYLL I. 

The straw-fed steed, and steer for summer range 
Of fatt'ning marsh design'd. His bleating flock 
Alone excepted, that in thick wrapt fleece 
Amongst the frozen turnips seems to scorn 
The season's rigour, near him sees at once 
All the dependents on his various toil 
The smiling farmer. Big in ruffled plumes, 
Near the wide open'd barn th' assembl'd brood 
Contend, or keen watch for the flail laid by, 
And thrasher's absence : nor far off, in flocks 
Of hundreds, by the rick, embolden'd claim 
His largess, the wild tenants of the grove. 

When Spring breathes freshest fragrance o'er the 
mead 
From cowslip banks: when Summer lights the rose 
With dew impearPd, and through the garden sheds 
The sweets of orange flow'r: when Autumn leads 
The early beagles o'er the furrow'd plain, 
Or, with bold harriers sweeping down the slope, 
Awakes with harmony the echoing dell, 
Shall man the many profFer'd joys reject 
For senseless slumber ? no, the smiling hour 
Invites to exercise, to business calls, 
Giving alacrity to each pursuit. 
Fresh from his fairy dream the poet wooes 
His willing Muse; and rosy-visag'd Health 



29 



On Pleasure waits, as sages oft have sung, 
But none in more harmonious strain than thou, 
Instructive bard, in whom Apollo join'd 
* One pow'r of physic, melody and song.' 

And yet, alas ! in contrast many view 
Reviving day. How sweet its first approach, 
When seems observable to childhood's eye, 
Fearful unclos'd, a fainter shade of black 
On Night's dark pall; with strong dispersive charm 
Chasing vain terrors from the throbbing breast. 
How sweet to wishful mariner appears 
The first pale beam that through the welkin strikes. 
When his strain'd shallop 'mid the billowy storm 
Admits the flood, and to his ken reveals 
Still buffeting the surge her consort near. 
How joyous welcomes in the glowing dawn 
Th' expectant merchant, lighting into port 
The rich- fraught argosy, molesting dreams 
Had shewn him in the ocean deep ingulph'd, 
With all his golden hopes. But how beholds 
Its sad return th' incarcerated wretch, 
From his glad vision waking that had giv'n 
Him life and freedom; now he finds it false; 
Stretching his length, his iron bondage feels; 
With sudden impulse strives in vain to rend. 
The shackles from his arm, and instant sinks 



oO MORNING. IDYI 

O'erwhelm'd with indignation and despair. 

How view it those arous'd to bear the pang 

Of ruthless pain, or heart-corroding care; 

Long suffering Wretchedness, that quits his couch 

To re-endure his woe ; and Poverty, 

The hard privations of another day. 

How view it those of kindred friends bereft, 

Whose smiles made it so welcome; and how those 

By Love beguil'd, and with Grief's careless wound 

Consum'd and comfortless, at once depriv'd 

In one lost object of their ev'ry bliss. 

For you, ye fair, to those already penn'd 

In prouder lay, my feeble numbers add 

Still one more victim to resistless love. 

In yon sequester'd valley, thick embower'd 
In sylvan shade, with varied features fair, 
Oft smil'd the maid that yielded to its flame, 
And oft with carol blyther than the lark 
In April morn beneath the radiant bow 
Of heav'n ascending, woke its glades to joy; 
To chaste affection from their infant years 
Increasing ever, a companion gay 
And careless as herself. No cavern hoar 
Among yon tow'ring rocks, no arbour green 
In yon dark woods, that has not echoed oft 
The wild effusion of their artless lays. 



II 



No walk beside the winding of the stream, 
Whose dewbright verdure has not often trac'd 
Their early steps; whose moon-illumin'd bow'rs, 
Hustling in evening breeze, have not alarm'd 
Their flutt'ring hearts with Fancy's changeful train 
Of childish terrors, to be laugh'd away. 
But late he left her, and now sleeps beneath 
The darksome shrouding of Atlantic waves. 
Poor mournful sufPrer, with attention fix'd, 
Without a sigh, without a tear, she heard 
His hapless fate, and seem'd to treasure up 
Grief's ample stores, in ecstasy of woe, 
To vent them freely in the sacred hour 
Of solitude. Then mus'd, with sullen joy, 
O'er woodland scenes that knew their early loves: 
There linger' d till the village bell had rung 

o o O 

His knell in midnight chimes, and when the sun 

Gladden'd the landscape with his early beams, 

There rush'd into the thicket's deepest shade, 

To shun the search of man. Distract at length, 

And warn'd by that commiserating Power, 

That sometimes to the wretched intimates 

The hour of dissolution; from her couch 

At early dawn arising, trac'd again, 

Yet more regardful, ev'ry well-known path; 

And in keen fitful agony of soul, 

Of glowing nature took her last farewell, 



32 MORNING. IDYLL I 

" Full into day unfolds the purple dawn, 

High o'er the mountain darts the golden beam; 

Receding shadows quit the upland lawn, 

And darker trace the rude cliff in the stream. 

" In freshen'd hues, in exhalation sweet, 

Gay o'er the field expands each dewbright fiow'r, 
And brightens ev'ry face, save one, to greet 
With wonted smiles th' exhilarating hour. 

" Adown the serpent stream, through willows grey ? 
With silver gleaming far, to mirth resign'd, 
Loud sings the fisher as he winds his way, 
And gives his white sail slanting to the wind. 

(t High on the sunny summit of the rock, 

Tunes the glad shepherd boy his artless reed, 
Or vacant contemplates his rambling flock, 

Or counts the green waves rolling o'er the mead, 

« Above, upon the rude and trackless steep 

That decks with furze-bloom its impending brow, 
Wild in capricious sport, the kidlings leap, 
Nor heed the fearful precipice below. 



(YLL I. MORNING. 33 

So, heedless on destruction's giddy brink, 

Hang the rash crew that trust their bark to sea, 

Then helpless in the gulfy ruin sink, 
And leave some woestruck wretch to mourn like me. 



: Clear stream, that fades upon my sick'ning sight, 
How oft I've stray'd along your willowy shore 
With him, who view'd you still with fresh delight, 
Yet left you, never to behold you more. 

Pines, from yon storm-worn cliff that wave on high 
Your sable tresses o'er the shadow'd vale, 

With ye, in plaintive harmony, I sigh, 
And murmur forth my sorrow to the gale. 

See, where yon rocks their dusky bulwarks rear, 
The ruthless falcon soaring for her prey: 

Hark, the shrill scream of terror strikes my ear, 
More grateful than the woodlark's jocund lay. 

For me no more these waving woods have charms, 
That gently woo the tepid breath of spring : 

I'll seek the realm drear winter's blast alarms, 
And wildly sail on desolation's wing : 



S4i MORNING. IDYLL I. 

" Muse o'er the billow- shatter'd vessel's prow, 

Where the pale mariner, in speechless dread, 
Views the ascending wave, that threatens now, 
Now breaks, to close for ever o'er his head : 



Where stranded wrecks yield up their last resource, 
And fell despoilers batten on despair : 

Where the swol'n wave has dash'd the livid corse, 
And circling ospreys wing the troubled air. 



a 



tt 



My brooding soul would gladden o'er the scene, 
And horror, wild, convulsive joy impart ; 

But here, delusive pleasure smiles serene, 
And smiling cleaves this agonizing heart. 

Here let the pard await the flock's return ; 

The howling wolf imbrue his cheek in blood; 
The war's wide havoc the lone peasant mourn, 

Whose pastures glow with slaughter's crimson flood: 

Wave the rank fern o'er his deserted mead ; 

The rugged bramble o'er the green hill's side; 
Hous'd in his ruin'd porch the marten breed; 

Dark o'er his hearth the silent adder glide. 



IDYLL I. MORNING. 35 

" Yet, on wild impulse of my frenzied brain, 

Why break thus rudely on the peaceful glade ? 
No, like my tears, be such dread wishes vain, 
The selfish raving of a lovelorn maid. 

" Bright scenes, so long joy's unmolested seat, 

On some less hapless pair your charms bestow, 
Or be ye consolation's calm retreat, 
And mitigate some lighter lover's woe. 



tt 



Flow'r-waving breezes still with incense teem, 
Still through the dale the burst of pleasure swell, 

Still gently wanton o'er the chequer'd stream, 
And distant waft, my long, my last farewell." 

Faint the distressful victim sank to ground, 
As bade relenting Fate the struggle cease ; 

Cast her last melancholy glance around, 
And clos'd her eyelids in the lap of Peace. 

Sad lovely flowret, ere the Spring return, 
Beneath yon ever-verdant holmoak's shade, 

Maids, chaste as thee, shall raise the sculptur'd urn, 
To crown the green turf where thy bones are laid. 
d 2 



36 MORNING. IDYLI 

There, shall the pallid snow-drop bow its head, 
The crocus there, its golden cup unclose, 

Like thine, whose beauties are untimely shed ; 
That shrink and perish as the keen blast blows. 

There, as thy monumental stones decay, 
Shall mute forsaken Melancholy rove ; 

There, shall rude Mirth pause on his giddy way, 
And sorrowing, breathe the heartfelt sigh to love. 



NOON. 



IDYLL II. 



A Summer's Noon : the same as described in old Sicilian Pastoral — 
The Garden — Scenes on the Sea-coast — Rural View — Mauritanian 
and Syrian Scenes — Autumnal Noon, British Prospect — The 
Chase— Brumal Noon — The Hour in Trading Cities— Solitude. 



NOON. 



IDYLL II. 



More brilliant still ascends the hour, 
And hill and rock, and leaf and flow'r, 
In yet more glowing hues array'd, 
Retract their ill-proportion'd shade ; 
Till the surrounding scene displays 
A mantle of unmingled blaze. 

Soft along Sogod's variegated vale 
Wantons the summer breeze, from snow-capt heights 
Wafting cool influence : o'er bright Shiraz, 
From beds of roses ever rifling sweets, 
To limpid fountains, through green cypress grove 
Responsive murmurs, and luxurious fans 
The glowing bosom of dark Persian maid. 



40 NOON. ID1 

Stretch'd at his ease, secure beneath th' arcade 
Of vast banyan, itself a stately grove, 
Deep with recess, and dark with leafy shade, 
Reclines the Indian, heedless of the pow'r 
Of noon-tide's burning beam. Above him heard. 
Of birds innumerous the varied note 
To pleasing indolence, or slumber lulls, 
Till Evening draws her dusky curtains round, 
And most sagacious of the feather'd race, 
As yet by man untutor'd, the baya 
With the bright fire-fly lights her pensile nesL 

In zenith glory now, with us, the sun 
Darts from his throne of flame his beams direct 
On the wide-glowing plain, and long has rais'd 
From the parch'd field the dewy stole of morn. 
In vain the panting cattle seek for shade ; 
The lofty elms that late so far outspread 
Their darken'd forms, now luminous around, 
Refuse their succour; nought diverts the eye 
From the broad sheet of superficial glare. 

From his laborious task the mower rests, 
And where the venerable beech extends 
Its long inclining boughs, in cool retreat 
Stretches his listless length. In silence sunk, 
Depopulate the rural world appears ; 



41 



In the rude arbour, by his artless hand, 
Woven at eve, the shepherd lies conceal'd, 
And sound in sleep forgets his woolly charge j 
Rous'd by the fly, in sudden starts, his dog 
Alone gives animation to the scene. 

Tir'd of the chase, as poets sung of old, 
Beneath the spreading oak, or tufted pine 
That points on high its cones, and whispers soft, 
Fann'd by the gentle breeze, in deep repose 
Lies sylvan Pan; and near on some green plat 
With blooming myrtles fring'd, a lifeless group 
Of Fauns recline. Each bow'r is still around ; 
Ev'n the blythe lark forgets her wonted song, 
And in their leafy covert lizards hide. 
Hush'd is the rural pipe ; from cave remote, 
Perchance in murmur faint the herdsman's tale 
Steals on the list'ning ear, with mingled sound, 
Thrown o'er adjacent rocks, of falling stream. 

O'ercanopied by clear Sicilian skies 
Such the calm scene, by Arethusa's fount, 
By Acis' bank, or Etna's florid steep, 
Oft mark'd by thee, sweet Syracusan ; oft 
By Smyrna's second sad lamented son, 
And him, who sweetly tun'd his rural reed 
To lays of love, and perish'd by its flame. 



42 noon. idyll": 

Let proud Calliope, in lofty strain, 

Sound the loud shell, and lead her bards to arms ; 

Let her stern sister with terrific hand 

The blood-stain'd dagger raise; yet shall the Muse 

Of rural innocence, in simple grace, 

In their bright presence wear a wreath as green: 

Immortal Maro, still shalt thou divide 

Admiring man, when humble swains thy theme, 

And crested warriors ; and hast thou, sweet bard 

Of silver Thames, who first in all its charms 

Awoke in British Isle the pastoral strain. 

In its rare melody surpast thyself, 

When in full pomp of buskin'd majesty. 

Eager to drink the fullest blaze of light, 
Along the garden ev'ry flower appears 
In highest beauty; lone amid the maze 
That decks the gay parterre, transplanted late, 
The tender nursling droops its languid leaf, 
Unblown, and yet unequal to endure 
Th' inclement fervour. From their pale green hues 
Pomona's treasures turn; assuming deep 
The ruddy blush, the apricot and peach 
Far more inviting hang, as the strong heat 
Reflected quivers down the glowing wall. 



IDYLL II. NOON. 43 

From the rude shelter of the beetling rock 
How beauteous is the scene ; throughout the bay, 
The blue waves curl along the yellow sands 
In gentlest murmur. From intrusion safe, 
On yon flat isle, the congregated fowl 
Stand motionless ; in strange fantastic form 
Outspread their snowy pinions in the sun, 
Or slumber, pois'd upon the single shank, 
Or busy trim their plumes. Her ev'ry sheet 
Expands the brigantine, yet scarcely makes 
The smallest progress. Ever on the change, 
As fancy ponders o'er the wat'ry waste, 
How wonderful appear the various means 
By one great Pow'r employ'd, whose plastic hand 
Through a material world, or works unseen, 
Minute and intricate, beyond the reach 
Of man's gross apprehension, or achieves 
The mighty revolution at a stroke, 
Sublime and awful. Now to sight ascends, 
By the weak efforts of a pigmy worm, 
The fabric huge, that fix'd on solid base 
Withstands an ocean's rage : now sudden rear'd 
From depths esteem'd interminable, high 
Points its rude barrier the volcanic isle. 
Here might we try to scan the secret laws 
Of nature, scrutinize the globe's decay, 
And renovation; to another mark 



44 NOON. IDYLL IL 

Oppos'd each bold hypothesis, and judge 
Between contending systems ; but averse 
To the wide field of physical research. 
To humble themes returns th' excursive Muse, 
And on each plausible conclusion smiles. 

On the green surface of the placid sea 
The nautilus hath set his hollow sail 
To catch the fickle breeze, that partial marks, 
By fits, the glassy plain. Slow gliding on, 
The vacant sailors from the shallop's side 
Bend o'er the coral reef, and contemplate 
The sun-illumin'd grottoes of the deep, 
With many a beauteous conch, and branching sponge 
Tempting the eye. At this resplendent hour, 
Of old, would Doris rise, in triumph borne 
By sportive dolphins, bounding o'er the wave 
In pearly shell of each soft- varying hue, 
By polish'd rocks of Cyclad, to behold, 
With liquid gems and sparkling amber crown'd, 
Her sea-nymphs dancing naked on the strand. 

How bright the foliage of yon stately grove 
Its varied hues displays; there pointing from 
Its deep green mantle, the high-tap'ring spire 
Of venerable fane. Th' expanse of light 
O'er all diffus'd, reflect the neighbouring hills. 



IDYLL II. NOON. 45 

Of form fantastic, and in gay attire 

Of cultivation rob'd, delight the eye 

With rich diversity. Ev'n the close glen 

Is now awhile emblazon'd, and aloft 

Tow'ring in full sublimity appears 

The cloudless mountain, whose high ridge repels 

The boreal storm, and whose empurpled side 

Rugged and vast, with torrents furrow'd deep, 

Closes abrupt the hollow-winding vale. 

Together crowded in the shallow ford 
Knee-deep the cattle stand. Half-shelter'd, near 
Reclines the silent angler, from his sport 
Loth to desist ; and inconsiderate 
Of the strong-scorching fervour, playful boys 
Still give their gleaming bosoms to the flood : 
While from her covert of thick flags, unseen 
The moorhen chatters, and, elusive, mocks 
Of their successless dog the keen pursuit. 

O'er flower-embellish'd mead and reedy bank 
Exult the insect tribe; among them bright 
His chequer'd vans and dark blue coat of mail 
Displays the dragon-fly, but late emerg'd 
From his long-tenanted abode, the pool, 
Through the brief moon of latter life to range 
In fresher lustre, more vivacious joy. 



46 NOON. IDYLL II. 

As silent o'er his contemplative sport, 
In maze of thought involv'd, the angler rests; 
Low on her black-arch'd wing the swallow skims, 
And lightly dips her bosom in the wave. 
Above his head, the soon collected cloud 
In thunder bursts, at once his trance dissolves, 
And pours direct its rapid torrents down, 
Loud bubbling in the flood. Amaz'd he seeks 
In haste the neighb'ring oak's protecting bough; 
But ere he reach it the brief storm is o'er; 
Bright as before, beneath an azure sky 
The liquid mirror gleams, and o'er its face 
Darts the swift king's -fisher, in joy to spread 
Her vivid beauties to the welcome ray. 

Sweet were the grotto now, or moss-grown cave, 
Seat of hoar anchorite, renouncing all 
The vain pursuits of life; or still alcove 
By lofty elms o'ercanopied, that spread 
Umbrageous gloom, and turn the noontide glare 
To sober stole of eve. Delightful hence, 
As some long high-arch'd avenue conducts 
The eye to shining plains, to ruminate 
On others' toil, on troubles we escape; 
To mark the seaman on the shadeless wave, 
The worn and weary soldier, still press'd on, 
Though fainting, to the distant field of war : 



IDYLL II. NOON. 4? 

The roaming caravan o'er desarts drear, 

And flaming fiercely on the aching sight 

With blaze illimitable; haply strewn 

With sun-bleach'd skeletons in the loose sand 

Half buried; dread memorial of the fate 

Of victims by intolerable thirst 

O'ercome, or stifled by the scorching blast. 

Sweet to the traveller the tinkling rill, 
That thick embower'd in leafy covert gives 
The draught refrigerant ; with limpid wave 
Refreshing his parch'd lip, while yet he rests 
At ease o'ershadow'd, and unwilling still 
To venture on his dusty way, stretch'd out 
Interminate across the barren heath. 

And should the hour divested of the cares 
An active life creates, roll peaceful on, 
And o'er the mind sequester'd from a world 
Of noise and bustle, shed the grateful balm 
Of relaxation ; set apart the morn 
For necessary toil, some leisure now 
May well be given to meditation, books, 
Or social intercourse, that timely keeps 
From the sooth'd bosom ev'ry troublous thought. 

Thus, 'neath the shelter of thick- woven skreen 
Of bright carnations, spreading fragrant round 



48 MOON. IDYLL 

Their spicy odours, all to love resign'd, 
Lies the swart Moor impassionate ; and with 
The dark-ey'd mistress of his heart, forgets 
The corsair's peril, the dread shock of arms. 

Thus, where Barrady winds his silver wave 
By verdant islets, and through fruitful groves, 
Rearing the lofty minaret and tow'r 
Delightful 'mid their maze, and erst esteem'd 
Terrestrial Paradise by holy seer 
Of Mecca, 'neath the shade luxurious lies 
The Syrian Moslem, and with mingled charms 
Of rivulet, green bow'r, and female face, 
Defies dark Melancholy's utmost pow'r. 

In this bright realm, beneath meridian rays, 
While yet but feebly glow Europa's plains, 
The sunny champaign oft the shepherd quits, 
Seeking the impervious bow'r, or hollow rock, 
Where the cool torrent in soft murmur bounds 
Adown the broken steep; or winds his path, 
Where pale anemonies, and myrtle knit 
With shining marigold, fringe each rude crag, 
And aromatic shrubs in op'ning flow'r 
Lavish their mingled odours in the gale. 
Delightful clime; well might the fair domain, 
In sacred promise, o'er th' Arabian waste 
Prompt Amram's holy sons ; well might the thought 



49 



Of such a paradise before them spread, 
Cheer with fresh hopes their oft rebellious host, 
And urge them on to conquest. Still the seat 
Of Nature's choicest treasures, to the eye 
Of pilgrim fair, as on his way he seeks 
Some sign of Judah's pomp, of Israel's pride, 
Or faintly traces the once blood-stain'd field, 
Whence rose in splendour warlike David's throne. 

And wakes reflection to its proud remains 
Hoar ethnic monument. Aradian pile, 
Baalbec's bright fane, or theatre immense 
Of Jebilee. Hence wand'ring in the maze 
Of fable lost, imagination rests 
On guilty Myrrha; views the purple flood 
Rolling its waves lamenting to the sea, 
Still to commemorate that hapless day 
To Cypris' hopes so fatal; feigns the bow'r, 
Where pale Adonis, by soft Cupids fann'd, 
Told the sad tale, sigh'd forth his last farewell, 
In dying anguish bow'd his languid head, 
Sank on her bosom, murmur'd, and expir'd. 

But o'er some British prospect mark we now 
The tranquil features of October's noon ; 
When, through dispersing haze Hyperion darts 
His still effective beam ; with radiant fire 

E 



50 NOON. IDYLL II. 

Glows on the distant mountain's azure van, 
And through the garden spreads a hue of gold 
On many a wither'd leaf and faded flow'r. 
Ev'n now, light floating o'er the sallow scene, 
Hangs pervious a soft silv'ry veil of mist; 
While in the breathless calm, not ev'n a leaf 
Is seen to stir; not ev'n a note is heard 
From feather'd chorister, to break the charm 
Of sacred quiet through the woodland shade. 
Perch'd on the elm, beside his nest the rook 
Sits motionless. Scarce seen, in idle sport, 
Or busy thrift, abroad an insect wing; 
Yet in her silent toil Arachne seems 
Doubly assiduous, from ev'ry blade 
And twig extending far her filmy snares. 

Or now regardless of the southern sun, 
Or rather courting its kind influence, yet 
O'er stubbly field the ploughman cleaves his way, 
Striping with darksome furrow the pale lea ; 
And with light harrow o'er the new-sown grain 
The whistling seedsman speeds, and overspreads 
The powder'd soil; while softly on his game 
The setter down the fern-clad border steals, 
Low -cow' ring. By the still unrifled hedge, 
In quest of glowing berries, bly the are seen 
The stripling bands; and near, no longer dank, 



51 



Through pheasant-haunted coppice briskly treads 
The fowler, gladden'd with exulting note 
Of his bold spaniel, starting nigh in air 
His beauteous prey, or in the tangled grass, 
Tracing through ev'ry maze the silent hare. 
Delightful, through transparent ether seen, 
Extends the landscape, by the vivid tints 
Of Autumn mark'd. The many-colour'd woods, 
In beautiful variety, adorn 
Hill, rock, and valley, and far distant trac'd 
The chequer'd plain embrighten. Meads embrown'd 
With streak of fence, and still in verdure clear, 
As fair appear as in th' emblossom'd hues 
That Spring affords them. Prospects in decay, 
Congenial with soft melancholy, give 
The mind perchance still greater charms, than when 
In all their gaudier splendour. Half-conceal'd 
Amid the fallen leaves, some little plant 
Still rears its slender stem with flow'rets gay, 
Seeming of Summer the last gift, and loth 
To shed its beauties. Sweet is the last scene 
Of Nature thus attir'd in varied stole 
Of leaf, as is of some departing friend 
The last farewell; as is the ling' ring look 
O'er a retiring world, on life's last verge, 
To him, who views it with too fond an eye. 
For with what but false hopes, and fleeting dreams 
e 2 



52 NOONr IDYLL II. 

Of happiness, do Nature's fairest scenes 
Inspire too credulous man? 'Tis true, in turn 
The seasons die but to be born afresh ; 
But to reflourish does the prospect fade; 
And does he so? alas! his flow'r, once blown, 
Fades, withers, falls, and never shoots again. 

Musing o'er mournful incidents long past, 
And mollify'd by time, the picture, chang'd 
At once to joyous, fills the varying mind 
With animation. Hark ! the chorus swells 
In full, diversified, harmonic strain, 
As down the purple bosom of the glen 
The nimble harriers sweep, from upland copse, 
O'erhanging grove, and rock, and hollow cliff 
Echoed sonorous. Startled at the cry, 
With exultation wild the courser clears 
The narrow pasture's bounds. The swain, in haste, 
Unlinks the fleetest of his shaggy team 
To bear him 'mongst the throng, or climbs the hill 
To gazein transport on th' enliv'ning scene. 

Still, envied Britain, thy green plains shall rear 
The matchless steed, triumphant o'er the field, 
In the fleet chase, or direful shock of arms 
To bear thy dauntless sons. Still shall thy hounds 
Challenge the meed of praise, as when among 



IDYLL II. NOON. S3 

Thy painted race, fam'd Agassean breed 
Shone in bold numbers of Cilician bard. 
Yet shall the gallant hunter, as he roams 
Thy peaceful thicket, pant for nobler game; 
Against the fierce antagonists of man 
To raise the jav'lin'd arm, to tread the glade, 
Where the thick interwoven jungle skreens 
The ruins base, and couch'd in ambush' waits 
The sullen tyger, to th' advancing throng 
With hideous grin disclosing wide his fangs, 
And daunting with short growl the coward pack 
At distant bay : to dare the contest, where 
The shaggy bison roams the Thracian hills, 
Or oryx, fellest monster of the wild, 
Stretches the lion mangled in the dust, 
And spurns, and tramples on his prostrate lord. 

Bold as their game, erst Ethiopia's sons, 
On man's superior pow'rs relying, dar'd 
The tawny monarch of the forest forth 
To open onset. Wrapt in fleecy garb, 
With many a fold secure ; with wicker shield, 
And helm impenetrable, little they 
Regarded his assault. Onward tliey rush'd, 
And lashing in the air their sounding thongs, 
With ceaseless tumult woke his full revenge. 
Each on his targe receiv'd him, and withstood 



54; NOON. IDYLL 

His formidable leap, as fresh provok'd, 
Fierce on the new assailant ever turn'd 
Th' astonish'd brute ; till wearied out at last 
With many a vain attempt, and galling wound, 
Tamely submitting to his bonds, he sunk 
Asham'd, and gasping, on the sandy plain. 
Whilst o'er the speckled panther craft prevail'd : 
As poets' fable, ravenous and fierce, 
Then ranging through th' inhospitable wild ; 
But once endued with beauteous human form, 
With female charms, and darting from blue eyes 
Kind winning looks; with wreath of blushing flow'rs 
Adorn'd, and with the purple liquor flush'd, 
To echoing cymbal bounding in blythe dance. 
Chang'd by th' offended God, in vengeance dire 
On disbelieving Pentheus ; beauteous still 
In transformation, of the luscious grape 
Still fond, and by its sweet seductive power, 
As oft is man, betray'd. Where Libya spreads 
Her sun-burnt solitudes, and o'er the plain 
Some silent sluggish freshet scarcely flows ; 
Strong fragrant wine, by nightly hunters brought 
And pour'd into the wave, their frequent draught 
Excited; kindled up their antic sports, 
Uncouth, and clamorous with mingl'd rage; 
Then stretch'd them yawning o'er each other, fall'n 
To watchful captors a defenceless prey. 



IDYLL II. NOON. 

Oft o'er the face of Noon, protracted, spreads 
Dull winter the hoar flake; and as beneath 
Autumnal morning, melting into light, 
Appears the welkin round. At length half seen 
Through his thick veil of vapour, the broad sun 
High in the south displays his blood-stain'd orb; 
There, bright'ning by degrees, with changeful tint 
The mist imbrowns, and with collected beams 
Then breaks in glory o'er the reeking plain. 
Glisten the many-colour'd chrystal gems 
In their full splendour, and along the path 
Exulting in the transitory scene, 
Disportive youth, and fur-clad beauty smile. 

Of southern aspect down the coppice side, 
Struck by the genial ray, in feeble glow, 
Resigns each russet frost-embroider'd leaf 
Its powdery spangles; and dissolving falls 
Through intermingling boughs the lucid drop ; 
Waking the feather'd tenants of the maze 
To short-liv'd song, to melancholy joy, 
Among their half-stript bow'rs ; from sudden flight 
Lighting on sunny bramble, and the perch 
For ever shifting, the faint lay begin 
The redbreast, and brisk wren ; at intervals 
Smoothing the ruffled plume, and leaping hence 
Down on the soften'd earth, with busy bill, 



56 NOON. IDYL? 

'Neath the dead leaf, to find the shelter'd worm. 

As labour calls, as rural sport invites, 

Or need impels, seems every one alert 

To seek the welcome sunshine. To the field 

Hastens the lusty swain. Re-echoes oft 

In distance the loud gun ; and stealing forth 

In tatter'd garb along the lane is seen, 

Emblem of poverty, the wizen crone, 

Tearing from broken fence her scanty store 

Of fuel, heedless of another's right 

In dire necessity; and bearing home 

Alas, with all her efforts, scarce enough 

To cheer her niggard hearth with one hour's flame. 

To breathe the milder atmosphere, his home 
Forsakes the convalescent. Cheer 'd perchance 
"With hope, false fleeting hope, now smiles awhile 
On the refulgent beauties seen around 
The hapless youth, slow wasting in the blast 
Of Atrophy. Rush o'er his mind the joys 
His thoughtless hour of life so vivid paints, 
Only to make the converse seem more dark 
The morrow Mill present. The ghastly train, 
A prey to dire intemperance, or disease 
By Heav'n inflicted, take their last survey 
Of the brief picture, ere dull darkness close 
Their eyes for ever in the silent tomb. 



IDYLL II. NOON. 57 

Where flows the medicinal spring, where breathes 
Through tepid glades its sweets a milder breeze, 
How numerous with age and sickness worn, 
And wretched bearing the remains of life, 
Appears the throng. With pride of health elate, 
And vigorous, meet lesson to mankind. 
Here may the rude disturbers of the world, 
They who think others' peace, a trifle when 
Oppos'd to their high views, who will obtain 
The wreath of empty glory dyed in blood 
Of thousands, ponder on the humbling close 
Of high-prais'd victors, hastening to the grave 
In wretchedness and pain. Here may the fool, 
Who toils for wealth excessive, and regards 
No moral that would lessen his receipts, 
Behold the end of opulence, and ask, 
Was it for this he pass'd the livelong day 
In drudgery, and hoarded his vast gains? 
For this, to hold them when no more of use 
T' obtain enjoyment, and then give them up 
For the loose squand'ring of some spendthrift heir. 

Now draws the pool, with firm incrusted plain 
Of ice, the joyous multitude. Intent 
On graceful sport, and skimming o'er its face, 
Rapid as if on eagle pinions borne, 
Health-breathing groupes appear; or gliding through 



58 NOON. IDYLL II. 

The mazy dance with elegance and ease. 

Admiring circles with their feats delight. 

Nor void the pastime of th' attractive zest 

Of female charms, on others lighting soft 

In approbation, or more full display'd 

Themselves in fleet career. Gay where adorns 

Pannonian city Ister's wide expanse, 

Glisten, contending in their rich array, 

Innumerous sleds. On Caledonian lake, 

Launching the pond'rous stone, the Highlander 

Invigorates his arm; arm ever prompt 

In valorous emprise, and in the fray 

Strong to strike home, as Britain's foes can tell. 

Reckless of July's beam, December's snow, 
Brisk commerce fills the street, and crowded quay 
With ceaseless bustle : Her laborious sons 
On lucre only bent, from their dull haunts 
Affright the gentle Muse. Fair science, wit, 
And all the finish'd elegance of life, 
Seem but as idle follies to the mind 
That never gladdens, except when engag'd 
In computation of base worldly gain. 
Amid a scene so uncongenial, oft 
For thee, lamented bard, whose youthful hand 
So boldly struck the lyre, shall rise the sigh; 
Whose talents, foster'd in a friendly soil, 



59 



Had rais'd thee high, had rank'd thee with the band 
Who've deck'd in fullest honours the cothurn,, 

Not so in equatorial clime, beneath 
The blazing orb. Of profit here awhile 
Forgetful, the plain Hollander relents, 
And shuns the mart. Along her desert street 
Batavia shuts the door : no sign appears 
Of Morning's industry. To solid feast 
Devoted is the hour, and needful sleep 
Successive to its toils ; while the brief lapse 
Of life admits, is eagerly embrac'd 
Each gross indulgence, and as reeks around, 
Pregnant with dire disease and rapid fate, 
The swampy plain, with fatal unconcern 
Is prudence banish'd. Prompted by the hopes 
Of mammon, through a grove of crowded masts, 
From distant realms steers the deep-laden bark 
To land her crew upon the shores of death. 

Rob'd, in some ancient hall now Justice holds 
Her court : with patient ear endures the length 
Of dull harangue, and flippant waste of words 
Of litigation, toiling for the truth 
Through many a tedious hour: Alas, how oft 
Her toil is vain, while Artifice prevails 
To skreen the guilty, and traduce the just. 

6 



60 NOON. II 

Though half the labours of the day are o'er 
Where sojourns Industry, on heaps of down 
Lull'd with the fumes of yesterday's debauch, 
Lies pamper'd Luxury : or as he flings, 
And tosses on his couch, th' intrusive thought 
Breaks o'er his mind, and haply there begets 
A half determination of reform. 
But soon the brief reflection passes off, 
As sleep's light phantoms from the waking soul, 
Leaving him prone, and heedless as before. 

Tir'd of the fruitless turbulence of life, 
My willing steps shall lead me to the realm 
Of solitude. Around the mountain-lake, 
Lo ! Nature sleeps beneath the livid cloud 
In undisturb'd repose; here the lone ear 
Strives but in vain to catch the gentlest sound, 
And in the amphitheatre's vast range, 
No object stirs to break the solemn charm 
Of deepest meditation. Here, the soul, 
To ev'ry folly of the world estrang'd, 
Seems to forsake awhile her mortal seat, 
Turns on herself each faculty, and rests 
Enraptur'd : then immediate passes off 
The dream ecstatic, as to some dark rock, 
Majestic sailing through the midway air, 
The rav'ning eagle bears the new-dropt lamb. 



61 



Or now beneath invited, where affords 
Some lone recess the deep sequester'd dell; 
And where the alder's intersecting arms 
Weave an impenetrable arch on high 
To shade th' unruffled stream, let me recline 
Contemplative; while on its gloomy bank 
The melancholy hern has fix'd her stand, 
Brooding in silence o'er the death-like scene. 
Here ponder o'er the stillness of the grave, 
That soon must close upon the busy noise, 
And idle pomp of man. Ascending hence 
In retrospective observation, ask, 
Whence the rude storms of passion, that impel 
With such resistless force his wild career, 
And from the paths of reason turn him oft, 
To weep in woe, or rankle in remorse. 
How vain examples in the blood-stain'd page 
Of history, how vain the patient search 
Of hoar philosophy, through ev'ry maze 
Of science winding for the sacred truth, 
To light him on his way : how few are they, 
Who in the fall of other victims read 
Their own impending fate: who dare in spite 
Of prejudice be just. Ambition still 
Hurls the rash monarch headlong from his throne, 
And heedless error hurries into crime. 
Alas ! o'er human frailties, human griefs, 



Reflection sickens, till inspiring hope 

O'er other scenes her radiant mantle throws, 

And gilds the prospect of a better world. 

Regions, that fancy whispers ever bright, 
On whose existence the fond soul relies: 

Scenes of incomprehensible delight, 
Where ev'ry selfish inclination dies : 

Where all the " sad variety of pain ;" 

The keen-felt pangs of helpless sorrow cease, 

At once subsiding, in the blissful reign 
Of spotless virtue and eternal peace. 



EVENING 



IDYLL III. 



Approach of the hour — At sea over a foundering vessel — Summer 
evening view in Italy; in France; in the Arabian desert; in Egypt; 
in Western Africa — British scenery — Mountain pass — Sunset — 
Neapolitan landscape — Rural tranquillity, sports, &c. — Con- 
templation — Autumnal evening in a city, diversions, revelry — 
Dithyrambic. 



EVENING, 



IDYLL III. 



Bending toward the Western main, 
Calm Eve leads on her pensive train, 
And as they pass on radiant wing 
Yet longer shadows backward fling : 
Gleaming o'er their wat'ry bed 
Now loose their dew-gemm'd tresses spread, 
And smiling, as their charms decay. 
There linger, loth to fade away. 

At length with disk enlarg'd, the bright-hair'd sun 
Hangs o'er his western goal; and scarce observ'd, 
Soft stealing o'er the landscape, dewy Eve 
Spreads her colossal shadows o'er the dale, 
Still growing on the eye. The Eastern wave, 



66 EVENING. IDYLL III. 

Stain'd with the mountain's vast umbrageous form, 

Sleeps in untimely night. Illumin'd still, 

O'er the wide plain a mellow lustre glows, 

Fair as the rising dawn. Complacent reigns 

A sober quiet. Sympathetic feels 

Its soothing influence the mind of man ; 

Even partakes the wounded heart of woe 

The tranquil interval ; yet rises oft, 

Nurs'd by the calm, sad recollection strong; 

And as a deeper gloom successive falls 

To meet the mournful glance, dull melancholy, 

Dark and indelible, her influence spreads. 

Far on the faithless ocean's broad expanse, 
The luckless mariner beholds his bark 
Pierc'd by the latent reef. Through the short day, 
That breath'd a calm upon the night-swol'n flood 
To mock his useless toil, how oft has hope 
Chas'd the heart-sinking pang that still would rise 
O'er his foreboding soul, and shewn him all 
He lov'd, he valued, in his grasp again. 
How oft has manly perseverance seem'd 
To gain upon the leak, and transient joy 
Beam'd on his efforts; till worn out at last, 
With hopes expiring with the dying day, 
He sinks in mute despair, and as he views 
The wave-encumber'd wreck immerging, take.? 



IDVLL III. EVENING. 67 

Farewell for ever of the setting sun. 

Oft round the wide horizon roves his eye 

For some long-look'd for succour, but alas ! 

No object spots th' interminable void, 

Save the small pinnace that with less'ning sail 

Gleams in the distant offing, as it bears 

Some few companions to protracted fate. 

Strong at this hour imagination paints 

The blandishments of life, wife, children, friends 

Crowding his vine-clad porch, and as the cup 

Of health goes round imploring his return: 

Breathing in answer his last parting sigh, 

He bids adieu, and turning to the scene 

That round him rolls its swelling horrors wide, 

Broods o'er his dark unfathomable grave. 

But in despite of rocks and raging winds, 
That in the year's short lapse to timeless fate 
Hurry so many thousands; with firm soul 
The seaman still forsakes the sweets of home 
To dare the foaming surge. How bold was he, 
Whom first the shell light-floating on the deep 
Induc'd to quit the shore : how many shifts 
To trim his fragile bark ; how many fears 
Prompting his little sail to gain the cove, 
At each slight-threat'ning gale, we contemplate, 
Ere we behold thee, Jason, on thy prow 
f 2 



68 EVENING. IDYLL 

Mid shifting rocks, and hoary billows borne, 

Sweeping the stormy Euxine: ere we see 

The Tyrian trusting the vast Indian main, 

On Ogyris or Taprobana's coast; 

Where bristly monsters, buoyant on the brine, 

Like mountains wallow'd; or more daring still 

Round Southern Afric length'ning his bold course, 

At unknown stars amaz'd, and distant round 

Of Northern suns; to thee in aftertimes, 

Advent'rous Gama, pointing out the path 

To fame and fortune. Hence to th' enterprise 

Of modern navigators turns the eye; 

And first on thee, Columbus, wond'ring rests, 

Still cheering with fresh hopes thy fearful crew, 

Or by the needle's varying point alarm'd, 

By grassy waves, or th' unsuspected reach 

Of boundless oeean : notes thee in distress 

By tempest baffled, that had near o'erwhelm'd 

Thee, and all knowledge of thy bright success 

From an admiring world ; and sees thee last 

'Reft of thy well-earn'd honors, basely brought 

A fetter'd captive to a thankless prince. 

On thee, Magelhaen, next whose keel first trac'd 

The compass of the globe, untimely fall'n 

Far from thy native home, and in mid course 

Of fame at once cut off. Gaboto, Drake, 

Tasman, on ye, and last on thy career 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 69 

Lamented, indefatigable Cook. 

And hence the musing mind successive strikes 

The plenteous spoil of new discover'd realms, 

Pouring on Western Europe the full flood 

Of opulence and pow'r : thy vast renown, 

Triumphant Britain, in thy naval arms 

Grasping a world's dominion. Through the chain 

Of thought, how great, how persevering seems 

The courage, industry, and toil of man. 

Majestic rising on the steepy side 
Of Appennine, the ruin'd temple wears 
A blaze of glory on its topmost shaft, 
And circling cornice, with grey-mantled base, 
In shadow dim-discern'd. Beauteous, present 
Variety of tint the lengthy range 
Of mountain heights, inimitable Claude, 
Even by thee inadequately trac'd. 
Down in the vale, barefooted from the brook 
Follows her lusty herd the ruddy lass ; 
Counts the young shepherd his collected flock; 
And from the breezy lawn, emborder'd thick 
With vine and mulberry, resounds the strain 
Tun'd to brisk canzonet, or sprightlier dance. 

Sweet are thy scenes, fair Gallia, when the dance 
Of eve assembles from vine-mantled bow'rs 



70 EVENING. IDY 

Thy rustic bands, in simple elegance, 
In thoughtless merriment, and graceful sport, 
Prone to accelerate the light-foot hours. 
Such on thy islets green, and flow'ry meads 
With glowing orchards fring'd, romantic Loire, 
Are frequent seen, recalling to the mind 
The harmless pastimes of a golden age. 

In vast Nomadian desert, now refresh'd 

With cooler temperature, halts at length 

The weary Caravan. His wonted tale 

Recounts the simple Arab, and although 

So oft repeated, of the list'ning crowd 

At each narration still has some new charm 

To fix attention. In more polish'd realm, 

Tale that has oft on winter evening fill'd 

With magic terrors childhood's throbbing breast. 

Where, among blooming gardens rolls the Nile 
His fertilizing flood, and laves the walls 
Of once commanding cities in decay 
Magnificent, the turban'd Turkish lord, 
Reclin'd luxurious, quaffs the freshen'd gale 
Teeming with sweets, and doses in delight 
By torpent poppy lull'd. He heedless views 
The antiquated monuments of pride, 
That point to former ages of renown 



71 



In Time's dark shroud envelop'd ; present ease 
Crowns the revolving hour, and the faint smile, 
That rarely on his bearded visage breaks, 
Lights on the idle bustle of mankind, 
For ever on the flying shadow bent, 
For ever wretched, hoping to be blest. 
Thickens the juggler's circle, and the group 
Of every nation sink their thrifty cares 
In pleas'd astonishment; while from the stream, 
On nightly prow], the crocodile steals forth, 
And hallow'd ibis, o'er the wave-worn sand 
Skims light, impatient for her reptile prey. 

While the cool sea-breeze rustles in the palm, 
And swinging slow the green banana waves 
Its heavy leaf, on some high beetling rock 
To his lone meal the African retires, 
And mournful contemplates the western orb 
Sinking in majesty beyond the sail 
That bears his gallant boy to toil and woe. 
As he beholds the distant vessel fade, 
The swelling drops of agony roll fast 
Down his dark-furrow'd cheek. Now starting wild, 
He vainly utters the indignant curse; 
In sorrow now dissolving, pours his soul 
In loud complaint : " My son, no more for thee 
Thy native bow'rs shall shield the aching head; 



72 EVENING. IDYLL I 

No more for thee shall joy prolong the dance; 

Nor maiden carol o'er the ricy field 

Awake the mind to love. Insulting pow'r, 

And avarice shall fatten on thy prime, 

Till keen and ceaseless sufF'ring weigh thee down, 

Gall'd, and degraded, to an early grave." 

But claims our native isle the wand'ring song ; 
Of northern face with cloudcapt Grampian wild, 
And heathy Cheviot. Bold steeps between 
Winding her verdant occidental vales, 
In mingl'd beauties rich, of ruins hoar, 
Of billowy lake and torrent pouring oft 
The natural cascade : while glows the South 
With hill and dale in softer features fair, 
And plain luxuriant, crown'd with boscage green 
Of frequent copse, and intersecting hedge, 
Rearing a line of elm, or sturdy oak, 
Britannia's safeguard, high in ether blue. 

Though monish'd by the fast declining day, 
Along the mountain-pass reins in his steed 
Th' enraptur'd traveller, and contemplates 
The slope's green mantle speck'd with many a stone, 
Beside whose tablet grey, the slender birch 
Uplifts its silver stem, and gently waves, 
At each light gust, its many-spangl'd bough 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 73 

Iii fitful tremour. From the rocks above, 
With varied lichen ting'd, the mountain ash 
Hangs its bright scarlet clusters to the sun 
In full luxuriance; while the nether woods 
Reft of his joyous beam, in mass of shade, 
Blacken the deep and melancholy dell; 
Disclosing partial the dismantled walls 
In ruin crumbling, tha£ once aw'd the flood 
Wild dashing at their base the troublous wave. 

To his lone dwelling, o'er the woodland path 
The cottager returns, with welcome sweet 
Enliven'd by the warblers of the grove 
In fullest choir. The many-varied note 
Responsive echoes now awhile throughout 
The maze in contest; now again combin'd 
Harmonious swells; till, heard above them all, 
Opens the woodlark her transcendent song. 

Sweet bird, whose wild notes wing the ling' ring hours, 
How oft to listen to thy matin lay 
Sits the lone shepherd heedless of his flock, 
And on his flexile reed in vain attempts 
To emulate thy tones. How oft at noon, 
The fainting traveller forsakes his path 
To rest where thou art heard, and cheer'd by thee, 



74> EVENING. IDYLL T. 

B'isk, with invigorated step, inclines 

To climb the sun-burnt hill. At eve how oft 

From contemplation woke, the poet strays 

Around the dewy precincts of thy bow'r, 

Until the sullen hour of gloom steals on 

To close thy melody: no sweeter strain, 

From solitary Philomela flows 

Through Spring's emblossom'd wilderness, to soothe 

The lovelorn victim through her sleepless night. 

Flush'd with inimitable glory sinks 
The orb of day, but still irradiant, dyes 
With brightest crimson half the vault of heav'n; 
At length immerg'd, he slow withdraws his fires, 
And as th' horizon cools, in orange stole 
Arrays th' impending cope. The deep grey cloud, 
In flakes dissolving, points its slender streak 
Across the bright expanse, which gradual fades, 
Till in dim shroud the pageant disappears, 
Leaving the world to night. High o'er the town, 
Empeopled thick, fuliginous and dark, 
Sweeps the vast exhalation. Through its verge 
Twinkles the Northern wain, long ere their sparks 
Illume the lesser host, and clear discern'd, 
The Pleiads, hateful to the storm-tost tar, 
Hang their pale cluster o'er the curling wave. 



75 



Where more delightful is the prospect seen, 
Than on Campanian shore, thy precincts fair, 
Parthenope? While o'er thy placid bay, 
The gentle land-breeze from exhaling groves 
Of perfume, wafts sweet odours on its wings; 
Fanning innumerous sails in devious course 
O'er its blue bosom, ever on the change 
Presenting to the eye some novel shape. 
Bounding the wat'ry sheet, in fullest glare 
Of occidental glory lights the beam 
On eastern range of coast; on mountain height 
Now soft in distance, and on forests green 
Speck'd with town, village, and hoar convent walls 
In boscage half- con ceal'd ; immerging there 
In glittering waves its point extreme, to rise 
Again to view in Capri's rocky isle. 
Capri, sequester'd from a noisy world, 
Delectable retreat, suited to calm 
The soul to peace and virtue, but erewhile 
Polluted by a tyrant, and new force 
Lending to infamy. At length withdrawn 
To western worlds the radiant eye of heav'n, 
O'er all her shadowy mantle by degrees 
Dun Twilight darkens, save the glowing top 
Of tall Vesevus, still in sunny robe 
Discern'd', and curling high the smoky wreath 



76 EVENING. IDYLL III. 

Mid amber flakes of thinly scatter'd cloud, 
Transparent floating o'er the blue serene. 

Now, with congenial melancholy, seeks 
The Muse to range amid the silent groves, 
That 'neath Misenus' promontory stretch 
Their sable shades; where climbs the mantling vine, 
And decks the mulberry and poplar with 
Its pensile garlands; where the shelter'd glade, 
With cypress gently waving overhead, 
A calm seclusion for the frequent tomb 
Affords, as darker grows the pall of eve, 
Bringing to mind the closing hour of death. 
Or wanders in the realms of Poesy, 
By lake, and cave, and wilderness obscure; 
By drear Avernus, Sibylline retreat, 
Or black Cimmerian valley, never glad 
With Titan's golden fires, and communes straight 
With all the fabled Deities of Hell; 
Vast stretch of human fancy, wrought sublime 
Beyond all rivals by the Mantuan bard : 
Or views of Baiae the deserted shore, 
Where erst amid magnificence and mirth 
Hygeia reign'd; now shewing the grey walls 
Bar'd of their marble crust, haply wherein 
A Csesar revell'd, or a Tully mus'd. 



IDYLL III. EVENING. ' 77 

Ere the dull chafer roam, or blinkard bat 
Beside the cloister wing her flippant round, 
Return we to the rural features that 
Fair Albion offers. See, from pasture driv'n, 
Down the green hills the mottled kine wind slow, 
Deep lowing to the winds. By the near fence, 
Oft as they stray to crop the closing flow'r, 
W v ith well-known chaunt to urge them to the pail 
Th' impatient urchin strives. With looks askance, 
The smiling milk-maid listens to the jest 
Of the rude hind, returning from the pool 
With half-untrammePd team. No more is heard 
The thrasher's echoing stroke; the village rests, 
Save where light pastime gambols o'er the green, 
And the frequented hovel, where the smith 
Kindles his dusky visage o'er the forge 
With blaze successive, or with iron din 
Affrights the peaceful solace of the scene. 

But oft for joyful holiday reserv'd 
More boisterous sport; and while to distant fair 
Now at its height of mirth, or bent on gain 
To cockpit some repair; while pealing bells 
In frequent change chime merrily, and shake 
The Gothic tow'r, loud bellowing from the stake, 
And wond'ring what the noisy concourse means 
That round him thickens, stands the bull, and oft. 



78 EVENING. IDYLI 

Throwing a glance of observation round, 

Indignant blows the grass : then summons up 

His direst vengeance, as he sees the foe 

Silent and eager rushing on, or feels 

Him fix'd, and hanging from his dewlap, while 

Thrown sprawling o'er his head another falls 

To ground half-disembowel'd. Thus proceeds 

The ruthless conflict, and of men and dogs 

Loudens the rude inseparable din 

In frequent burst ; until perchance releas'd 

By rage from durance, dissipates at once 

Th' infuriate animal the fearful rout, 

Flying on all sides ; and then lucky he, 

Who from the arm of neighb'ring elm survey'd 

The savage scene, to laughable now turn'd. 

From hence remote, the careful shepherd leaves 
His flock, and homeward hies ; above his head, 
Humming aerial music, playful gnats 
Flit numerous, till against the gentle breeze 
He turns, then quickly vanish. Little he 
Thinks on his daily charge ; unlike the hind 
Of other lands, who in his warning dream 
Sees the night-prowling wolf beside the fold, 
And on returning morn beholds, alas, 
In sad reality, the havoc made 
In his defenceless pen. Yet not secure 



79 



From pillagers the swain, for, watchful, now 
From distant wood the brush-tail'd felon steals 
Down many a lengthy hedge in silent course, 
Ere in adjacent brake he lurks to seize 
Some feather'd straggler ; and there haply waits 
Until surrounding shades have deepen'd; then 
To the neglected henroost makes his way 
Through some time-eaten gap, and, glutless, leaves 
Of all its habitants not one alive. 

While brown October's gently-freezing eve 
With glimmering twilight lights the fowler home ; 
While Winter in hoar antiquated hall 
Kindles the frequent taper, and awakes 
The huntsman's echoing song ; calm Summer leada 
The pensive angler to swift eddying stream ; 
And here, intent he plies his ev'ry art 
For sport, where fluctuating circles shew 
The rise of eager trout, and many a fly 
Flaps the light glitt'ring wing; or hence retires 
With stronger tackle to the quiet nook, 
By grey-leav'd osiers from the ruffling wind 
Shelter'd around, where lurks the rav'nous pike, 
At noon oft near the surface dormant seen, 
Or sudden darting from thick haunt of weeds 
Fierce on his scaly prey. Adjacent lies 
The lotos pillow'd on the gentle wave, 



80 EVENING. IDY 

Expanding its broad leaves with water-drops 
Bright studded, and from pale unfolding bloom 
Diffusing fragrance, heighten'd by the sweets 
Of wild mint hid amongst the trembling flags. 

On the green margin of cerulean stream, 
Lost in wild fancies, indolently laid, 
Each object leads me to some new caprice, 
Some pleasing reverie. Nor wakes alone 
The eye, the ear each fine impression feels ; 
As playful swallows cross on devious wing, 
And twitter in blythe song, or bending reeds 
Whisper harmonious to the gentle breeze, 
Attentive listens to the sweet accord 
Of this primeval music ; strains that first 
Taught wond'ring shepherds the strong influence 
Of melody, and gladden'd hill and grove 
Ere soft flutes warbled, and responses drew 
From tuneful echo, soon by poets nam'd 
A flying nymph, from deep recess unseen, 
Cheering the weary ploughman in his toil. 

But hark ! conducted loud along the flood, 
Solemn, and deep, and slow, the passing bell 
Strikes on the sense, and then in distant air 
Dies tremulous away. Inquisitive, 
Methinks I hear the villagers demand 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 81 

Whom ruthless Fate hath quarried on. Methinks 

The faint bedridden suff'rer at the sound 

Raising his head, solicitous, aside 

His curtain draws, and answer'd, with a sigh 

Sinks on his pillow, and his doom forebodes. 

A doom still lamentable, strangely deem'd, 

Though weak and sapless age hath number'd out 

His complement of years : but haply marks 

The brief career of youth untimely clos'd 

The doleful peal ; by vice or folly driv'n 

Precipitate from hence some sacrifice, 

Or by the pow'r of foul example led, 

And left to cureless sorrow; such as late, 

Yon hamlet in its simple annals mourn'd. 

There, in the contests of the village green 

Was Alan foremost, foremost in the page 

Of village lore, while yet his boyish heart 

Beat only for the meed of honest praise: 

There dawn'd his manhood, and a parent smil'd 

On wedlock's bond, to bless as bright a maid 

As e'er imparted happiness to man. 

Alas ill-fated pair, who thought the world 

Pure as themselves ! Ere one short summer pass'd, 

Detested warfare drew him from his home 

To guilt and wretchedness, but two fond hearts, 

So lately blended, still refus'd to part. 

Together to inhuman scenes they went. 



82 EVENING. IDYLL III. 

Where bloodshed less contaminates the soul, 

Than those corrosive stains of selfish vice, 

Which startle first, then o'er their victim steal 

With yet a deeper, more repulsive die. 

There, in a band to plunder long inur'd, 

Where shameless appetite, habitual crime, 

And licence uncontroul'd had scarcely left 

One virtuous lineament, their guiltless loves 

Rais'd the loud laugh of scorn ; their theftless hands 

The hate of infamy. Example taught, 

Seduction tempted long, subdued at last. 

In the contagious precincts of a camp 
Wither'd the once pure partner of his joys, 
And soon to loss of innocence and shame 
Disease and death succeeded. Thus bereft 
Of ev'ry hope, with each endearment gone, 
Bold desperation urg'd him willing on ; 
The deeper draught that deadens ev'ry pang 
Became his last resource, and he who once 
Had in each gen'rous contest peerless shone, 
Warp'd to depravity, still found no peer. 

At length disbanded, to his peaceful home, 
Half pleas'd, he turn'd his steps. How flush'd his cheek, 
How beat his heart, when from yon tow'ring hill 
The well-known landscape broke upon his view; 






IDYLL III. EVENIS&. 83 

The lofty elms still waving o'er the green, 

Where he so oft had rul'd the boyish sport; 

The cottage peering through the woodland maze, 

Where long, where still an aged parent dwelt 

To bid him welcome. Ah ! the transient spark 

Of joy was soon extinct; his alter'd mien, 

And far more alter'd habits now no more 

Could win the heart : from his unpractis'd hand 

The tool of industry fell useless. Vain, 

Too late was each weak effort of reform : 

Yet would he strive, and ofttimes ponder o'er 

The brighter prospect of his early years 

So soon, so sadly clouded; till perchance 

In shame, despair, he mark'd th' averted eye 

Of those who once ne'er met him but with smiles, 

Who pitied, shunn'd him now; or trac'd the scenes, 

Whose ev'ry object mutely seem'd to ask 

For her, who once so lovely, once so lov'd, 

Had with him joy'd so oft to lay the schemes 

Of future happiness — the mingled pang 

Burst the full channels of a struggling heart, 

And clos'd at once the catalogue of woe. 

To cove returning now, along the coast, 
That or for health, or pleasure, boasts its throngs 
Of visitors from far, is frequent seen 
The tumid sail. Of man's intrusive foot 
g2 



84 EVENING. IDYLL III. 

No more afraid, in num'rous flocks resort 
To shelt'ring marsh th' inhabitants of air ; 
Whence many a shrill wild cry is distant heard 
Through night. Amongst them, of th' approaching 

storm 
Predictive, oft sweeps by the cormorant, 
Lashing with pennons dark the billows hoar. 

Freed from the labours of the day, the boy 
Seeks blithesome his compeers, and frolics wild; 
Or stops with artless finger his soft flute, 
Or winds aloud his bugle down the shore, 
In harmony resounded from the rocks; 
Far over ocean heard, and haply there, 
By fancy deem'd cerulean Triton's strain. 

Upon yon cliff that o'er the western main 
Hangs a tall land-mark, on whose heathclad brow 
Turn from the sea-breeze the blue-tufted pines 
Their bare and furrow'd trunks, let me behold 
The varying tints departing glory sheds 
O'er the wide firmament, reflected bright 
In gentle coruscation from the waves. 
There, mark the wane of Summer's radiant Eve, 
Translucent still, relinquishing serene 
To dun-rob'd Night her realm. In solitude, 
When dark autumnal tempests gather round, 






IDYLL III. EVENING. 85 

And from the deep ascends the rocklike cloud, 
Borne heavy on the blast, there musing sit ; 
Or hear the weather-beaten sea-boy's tale, 
While yet more sullen murmurs to the storm 
My waving canopy, and ev'ry gust 
Dashes a ruder billow on the strand. 

And charming is the solitary walk 
By coppice side, when Spring has hither brought 
The Daulian warbler, and her plaintive song, 
As poets feign, for Tereus' horrid crime, 
Or hapless Itys, through the list'ning glade 
Pours harmony; and pleasant on high down. 
Reflection o'er a peaceful world beneath, 
Where nought is heard, save when the sheepbell throw: 
Its tinkling on the ear. Nor less delights 
The long arcade of elms whose sables wave 
Alternate in the breeze, breathing around 
An awful melancholy : to their tops, 
Dark harbingers of twilight, haste the rooks s 
And hoarsely usher in yet deeper shades. 
From wide excursive flight assembled thick, 
In full accord combining, the whole choir 
Resounds ; then fainter with decreasing light 
Becomes the mournful strain, sinking at last 
To the low note of but a single voice, 



86 EVENING. 



In seeming plaint, and all is hush'd to rest. 

Slow from the lake's dim face the mists arise. 
And o'er the meadow hang their hoary sheet, 
Unfolding wide its skirts, till all immers'd 
It's surface sinks from sight. The frequent cough 
Escapes from wheezing age, and oft betrays 
The tender victim drooping though unblown 
In fell consumption's grasp. Beneath her cowl 
Of vapour shiv'ring, pallid Ague now 
Chills her lank cheek, and through her livid lip 
Shews the loose-chattering fang : On mischief bent. 
Borne, like the night-hag, on the breeze, she strikes 
The unsuspecting stranger, and defies 
The dogstar's utmost fury to dissolve 
Her stubborn spell. But heed not all the bane 
Of steaming exhalations that draws forth 
Incipient night, disportive pleasure's throng ; 
To its half-rural marge, to leafy bow'rs 
The city pours its crowds, who, 'neath the glare 
Of bright-illumin'd garden, wander blythe, 
Mid all the charms of music, dance and song. 

Its gay admirers draws the mimic scene, 
Where Farquhar, Macklin, Sheridan excite 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 87 

The frequent smile. Where farce, or broad burlesque 
By Fielding drawn, from Gravity provoke 
Th' unwilling burst ; while louder laughter shakes. 
With never-ceasing roar, the lofty dome. 

Nor must we pass the hour unheeded by, 
When peerless Shakspeare, Britain's favor'd bard, 
His blood-stain'd sceptre wields. From every eye 
When draws impassion'd Otway the big tear ; 
In th' estimation of the buskin'd Muse, 
To none that erst Hellenic chaplets wore 
Precedence yielding. Though in narrow sphere, 
And homely garb, their heroes are display'd 
In British theatre, or lacking means 
Of splendour meet, or to the tragic strain 
Unfriendly ; seeking rather to divert 
With humbler efforts the capricious crowd. 

With pleasure must we view that distant age 
Of excellence, when rival candidates 
Contended fairly for the laureate crown, 
And what was great and noble gain'd applause : 
Then, did poetic emanation give 
The moral lesson to instruct mankind : 
Then, did the philosophic bard disdain 
To the too vague opinions of the day 



88 EVENING-. IDYLL VII. 

To bow submissive, or to rest his hopes 
On some unmeaning actor's broad grimace. 

And did the scene in grandeur exquisite 
His purpose aid. Let fancy rest awhile 
O'er Thebes, beneath the desolating rage 
Of direst pestilence. Beside her fanes, 
Along her pillar'd streets, th' infected groupes 
Sink gasping to the earth ; or vainly raise 
Their feeble palsied hands to heedless Heav'n, 
And breathe the falt'ring prayer ; now heard no more, 
'Mid the deep sighs of succourless despair, 
And length en'd moan of death : At intervals, 
With harmony divine the choral hymn 
Peals in full chord, soliciting relief 
From adverse gods ; then in its solemn pause, 
Deep curses breaking on the startled ear 
Mark the bold suff'ring victim, whose last breath 
Dares with injustice charge their dread behest. 
There, lately stricken, the pale trembling wretch 
Shrinks back with horror from the bloated corse 
That rots beneath his eye, and as he thinks 
On all the foul deformity of death, 
Sees his own image, when the short-! iv'd hour 
Has ran its fearful course. Around him throngs, 
Convuls'd beneath th' unutterable pang, 
Grin hideous ; satiate with human woe, 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 89 

Till the relenting tyrant deigns at length 

The fatal stroke, and on a livid heap 

Of carcases consigns them to repose. 

Scarce less impressive than th' original, 

Was the distressful picture that unveil'd 

The Colonean ; luckless cause of all, 

While his paternal monarch strove to soothe 

The gen'ral misery, and on himself 

Drew wretchedness extreme : scarce less were those, 

That to admiring thousands offer'd oft 

The sage of Salamis, ere he drew forth 

From every breast the sympathetic sigh. 

Haply when Autumn has brought early on. 
In canopy of cloud, her moonless eve, 
In antique hall secure, in solid feast, 
Assembled greybeards laugh its length away: 
Or brighter throngs in radiant chamber met, 
With elegance the splendid banquet grace, 
As with the gay profusion, lively wit 
And ladies' courteous smiles combine to raise 
Convivial transports high. Yet oft alone, 
As closes thus the day, and shade on shade 
Condens'd without, in darkness drowns the world, 
From the glad converse of the social board 
Let me retire, and shroud me deep in gloom ; 
Wander awhile upon the lonely heath, 



90 EVENING. IDYJ 

Or promontory's brow, from whence the morn, 

Breaking refulgent on my dazzled sight, 

To rapture woke my soul, and meditate 

On the drear contrast, on the present void, 

And nullity of objects : where are now 

The fair pavilion, and hoar-castled cliff, 

The waving forest, and the verdant hill, 

That whilom in the glowing landscape mix'd 

Their many-varied beauties? Sunk to nought, 

Nor form, nor hue perceptible ; they seem 

Of a mere day-dream the creation vain, 

By more substantial night dissolv'd. How poor, 

How worthless then all human joys, for soon 

Must ev'ry fond endearment, earthly bliss, 

Thus vanish at the threshold of the tomb. 

So thinks the grave contemplatist, so think 
Those who despise the nought-importing flow 
Of social merriment ; yet must we now 
Mark the glad converse, that the sceneful hour 
Presents to view, and close our varying strain 
With the full crowded board's convivial roar. 
There, is it said the soul of inward thought 
Too fond, too alienated from the world, 
Should oft relax awhile. 'Twere better far 
For ever thoughtless, and for ever gay, 
To hurry through life's scene, than to appear. 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 91 

Though living, to each blythe enjoyment dead, 

And ever musing on eternity. 

While here, it is maintain'd, we must unbend 

For others' pleasure, if not for our own ; 

Seem, though we are not, with their trifles pleas'd ; 

Assume dissembling smiles, and welcome in 

With features bright as theirs the festive throng. 

Nay, there are times when even Prudence wears 

A churlish face : Then join we the carouse, 

As erst did Rome's great censor, in his course 

Severely wise, yet on occasion meet 

To lengthen'd mirth resign'd ; who wai'm'd with wine 

His hoar philosophy. High brimming bowls, 

Pun, jest, and hum'rous tale, successive heard, 

Elicit free, and from elate compeer 

Prompt the loose flow of Bacchanalian song. 

" Did not wine, o'er ills prevailing, 

Soothe the soul in solace glad, 
Human life too soon were failing, 

And, though short, were always sad. 

" Calming fears, dissolving sorrows, 

When its juice the bosom warms, 
From the grape's dark cluster borrows 

Beauty more than mortal charms. 



92 EVENING. IDYLL III. 

" Such the strain, with chalice flowing. 

Gentle Arno's stream beside, 
Bright with ivy-berries glowing, 

Bacchus whisper'd to his bride. 

" Such the strain in silent musing, 

Overheard by Tuscan sage; 
Such the secret joy diffusing, 

Treasur'd in his learned page. 

" What could erst the festive board, 
Though deck'd with regal pomp, afford? 
What the dance, in airy round 
Disporting o'er the turf-clad ground, 
But poor half-animating joy? 
Ere Ampelus, advent'rous boy, 
Thrown headlong to relentless fate, 
His comrade left disconsolate, 
And straight, to grace his hallow'd shrine 
Beauteous rose a blushing vine. 

" Can the rose, the garden's pride, 
With the grape its sweets compare? 

Can the lily, op'ning wide 
Petals admirably fair? 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 9 

" Can the flow'r Narcissus grew, 

Can Adonis' fragile bloom, 
Hyacinths of ev'ry hue, 

Breathing exquisite perfume? 

" Can all Pomona bears, to cheer 
With plenty the declining year, 

Such lively joys bestow? 
Though purple plums in mantle pale 
Of pearly bloom their blushes veil, 
The peach its rosy cheek displays, 
Their leafy crests ananas raise, 

Or speckled melons glow: 

" Vines, that court the southern beam 

On bright Vesevus' lava-streaming side; 
That fringe the banks of many a bounteous stream, 
Whose azure waves to Rhine's broad channel glide: 
That kindle fiercer flames of love 
In glowing nymphs of Cyprian grove, 
And oft with snow-cool'd juice impart 
A secret joy to Moslem's heart; 
Your gifts, with sorrow- soothing charm, 
Shall cheer our hopes, our bosoms warm, 
Shall raise our flowing spirits high, 
To inspiration, ecstasy. 



94 



" While flagons foam, and goblets ring, 

First the social Pow'r we hail, 
Who bade heart-easing Mirth prevail; 
Next our supplications rise 
For all who freely sacrifice ; 
Then soar we swift on Fancy's wing, 
In smiles array'd, with roses crown'd, 
A care-forsaken world around; 
Muses sweetest influence lending, 
Laughter-loving Sports attending, 
Harmless Wit, and Humour free 
From gall, and brisk Hilarity. 

" In distant realms of bright Cathay, 
On reconciling holiday, 

The tipsy frolic join : 
In Persia's bard-inspiring land, 
Associate with the Moslem band 

Round gentle Hafiz' shrine. 

" In Italy's romantic bow'rs, 
Regardless of the waning hours, 

Glad harmony prolong; 
And o'er the flask some tribute pay 
For bold Chiabrera's lofty lay, 

And Redi's jovial song. 



LL III. EVENINCx. 95 

" Fill the bowl, we rest awhile 
Where Seine surrounds her temple-crowned isle. 

" O'er Lutetian revels laughing, 

Trifles light our minds engage; 
Romanee and claret quaffing, 

Roussillon and hermitage. 

" No intrusive cares impeding, 

Gaily glad in woe's despite, 
Thought elate, to thought succeeding, 

Speeds the hour in rapid flight. 

" But, ah ! too soon each minute passes, 

British hearts may well complain, 
When bright eyes of Gallic lasses 

Sparkle with the brisk Champaign. 

" Should gay belles, a neighb'ring nation, 

Boast the fairer-featur'd face, 
Yours, in sprightly conversation, 

Yours, the palm in winning grace. 

" Fill again, in social glee, 
We hail the hallow'd land of liberty. 



96 EVENING. IDYLL III. 

" Here, though glows the grape unable 

With exotic growth to vie, 
Ample stores to crown the table 

Lusitanian realms supply. 

" Vineyards, their rich clusters swelling, 

That pellucid Bcetis laves, 
Fam'd Madeira, still excelling, 

Wafted over Indian waves. 



" Deeper thought on mirth attending 
Here the earlier eve beguiles; 

Dark reserve, at length unbending, 
Leaves the northern brow in smiles. 



" Then to deeds of ancient story 
Straight the rival circle soars, 

Till in full Thessalian glory 
Loud the rude carousal roars. 

" Again, fill high, as hence we fly 
To scenes of antique revelry, 
And, retrograde o'er many a dusky age, 
Drink delight with Grecian sage. 

" As merry flutes resound, 
Let old Corcyran sparkle round, 






IDYLL III. EVENING. 97 

Like that, which erst by kind Alcinous stor'd 
Bestow'd new graces on Ulysses' tongue ; 

Silenus' choice, whose nursling reign'd ador'd 
For the rare boon glad Naxian swains among : 

Chryse's produce, fam'd of old 

Beyond her richest mines of gold ; 

Snowy Chios' luscious juice, 

And Byblos, steaming sweets profuse 

From ev'ry flow'r that scents the gale 

In Syria's bloom-embroider'd vale. 

" Sing the Spartan dame invited 

O'er the waves by Phrygian swain : 
Sing the wand'ring boy benighted, 

Houseless in the chilling rain : 
Or rest, for hours of lovesick leisure, 

Nobler themes our joys inspire ; 
Drown Anacreon's wanton measure 

In bold sweep of Pindar's lyre. 

" Hark, how attun'd to Dithyrambic song, 
In matchless harmony the full chords roll ; 

Wafting, as wild they peal the roof along, 
Tumultuous rapture o'er th' exalted soul. 



98 EVENING, IDYLL III. 

" Gods, beneath whose kind direction, 

Man attains such bliss divine; 
He borders on your bright perfection, 

Who with music mingles wine. 

" Tempted to the streamlet's brink 
By em'rald mead and sapphire sky, 

With Roman bard in turn we drink, 
Dissolv'd in Roman luxury. 

" Boy, where coolest runnels flow, 

Plunge the foaming flagon deep ; 
Round my care-forsaken brow 

Let the verdant ivy creep ; 

" Violets be strewn around 

Scented sweet by noontide show'r, 

O'er the daisy-speckled ground 
Mingle ev'ry fragrant flow'r ; 

" Hither bid the nymph repair, 

Whose eye rolls in wanton wile ; 
Lyce, bright with golden hair, 

Lyce, blythe with willing smile. 



IDYLL III. EVENING. 99 

" In my chrystal goblet pour 
Such as consuls drank of yore; 
Alban, that in cave profound 
Has pass'd a second lustral round ; 
Nectar drawn from Massic vine ; 
Ccecuban, and Surrentine; 
Rough Falern, in Flaccus' lays, 
And Setin, great in Caesar's praise. 

" But hence the golden chalice bear, 
Idly boasting jewels' glare; 
Here, the ruby's ruddy beam 
Sparkles in the precious stream ; 
There, the liquid amber bright 
Far outshines the chrysolite ; 
Whilst the cheek with purple glows, 
Deeper than the damask rose. 

" Let the fool for wealth or power, 

In vain schemes his thoughts employ; 
While in the fast fleeting hour, 

Such exuberance of joy, 
With the festive juice inspiring, 

Mantles o'er the giddy brain ; 
Wilder still and wilder firing, 

Triumphs in ecstatic reign. 



h2 



100 EVENING. IDYLL III, 

" Fill yet a deeper bowl, 
Till frenzy madden o'er the drowning soul. 
Io, shall our chorus raise 
The strain in hallow'd Bacchus' praise ; 
Bacchus, with his Cretan fair 
Braiding loadstars in her hair, 
Rosy, dimpled, young, and free, 
Flush'd with love and jollity. 
Hark methinks the hollow drum 

Thunders on thie list'ning ear; 
Lo, the jocund couple come ; 

See, their medley bands appear, 
Tripping light, green-mantled Dryads, 
Tipsy Fauns, and frantic Tlryads 

Howling to the^deep-ton'd horn ; 
Reeling to fantastic measures, 
Wing the night with wildest pleasures, 

With rude uproar wake the morn. 

iC But soft at length my yielding senses fail, 
With the strong charm my heavy eyelids close; 

O'er my faint bosom freshens the cool gale, 
Pillow'd on roses, fans me to repose." 



NIGHT. 



IDYLL IV. 



Silent gloom-— Moonlight on the sea-coast— Ruins — Storm — Sum- 
mer and Winter scenes within the polar circle — Sea-scenes in 
equatorial regions — Night in a city, its diversions— Midnight — 
Description of a city on fire, &c. — Nocturnal warfare— Retreat 
of a discomfited army — Superstition— Contemplation — Astro- 
nomy—Conclusion. 



NIGHT. 



IDYLL IV. 



Descend at length, in drowsy flight, 
The sable ministers of Night : 
Now borrowing Cynthia's lucid ray, 
O'er woods, and rocks, and ruins grey 
Pale lustre stream : again assume 
A shroud of deep chaotic gloom, 
Wide wafting the tumultuous storm ; 
Or mantle Danger's varying form 
In dim disguise, or horrid glare 
Seen distant through the redden'd air : 
Resuscitate from lowly bed 
The sullen phantoms of the dead, 
In silent round, till Chanticleer 
Scares them to vault and cloister drear, 
And Phosphor shews the rosy train 
Of Morn, in blythe advance again. 



104 NIGHT. IDYLL IV. 

Where shall we trace thee ? solemn queen of shades. 

Mother of fearful dreams, now wrapping all 

In Chaos' pristine veil ; now shedding soft 

A pale romantic splendour o'er the world, 

Serenely beauteous. Over Afric's sands, 

And mountain-forest, echoing the loud roar 

Of prowling lions. Over Indian wild, 

Where sullen tygers, in dread clamour join'd, 

The moonlight jungle wake ; and subtle steals 

The keen hyaena through the slumb'ring camp, 

In dubious haze secure. Or follow thee 

To trans-Atlantic realm in changeful flight ; 

O'er Chili gleaming with volcanic blaze 

Of Andine beacon ; o'er the trackless swamps 

Of rank Guiana ; or Brazilian shades 

Speck'd with the fire-fly, bright on devious wing 

Borne heedless ; where around the stranger's couch, 

For ever restless, the mosquito hums ; 

Slow o'er the floor the scolopendra crawls, 

And dire envenom'd scorpion, black with bane, 

Chilling with horror the retracted limb. 

No, let us rather to Europa's shores 

Adapt our song, and chief o'er Albion rest, 

Till o'er the closing eyelid slumber steals, 

And air-drawn visions hold the wand'ring soul. 

Moor'd on the gentle flood, the lonely bark 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. 105 

Scarce feels the swelling tide. In deep repose 
The toil-worn mariners have sunk their mirth ; ' 
No murmur strikes upon the vacant ear, 
Save from the measur'd gait of dozing watch 
Who treads th' accustom'd round, or trickling wave 
That, by the faintly rising breeze impell'd, 
Breaks on the bow. In thickest gloom involv'd, 
Natui'e's fair face presents a hideous void, 
Till from the parting cloud the moon displays 
Her ample polish'd orb, with streak of gold 
Marking the liquid plain, and darting bright 
A trembling radiance on the full-spread sail. 

Pale empress of the sky, beneath thy beam 
How smiles the landscape round ! its umber tints, 
By thee enlighten'd, peer upon the eye 
In all their mellow harmony of hue. 
Yon cliff's hoar brow, whose rugged outline breaks 
In wild sublimity the distant scene, 
Glows in full splendour ; while the tow'r-like rocks 
And gloom-envelop'd brakes that mark its side, 
Seen through thy chaste and melancholy veil, 
Wear an enchanted face, and seem th' abode 
Of beings of some purer, happier race. 

Now, as a solitary grandeur rests 
O'er the still prospect, and as man at length, 



106 NIGHT. IDYLL IV. 

So late inflam'd with passion's headlong sway, 
And the rude cares of life, is lull'd to rest; 
Again to be arous'd and as before 
Be fretted by its storms; far from his couch 
Wanders the wakeful bard, and pausing oft, 
Gazes on Nature's beauties ; deep involv'd 
In labyrinth of thought, unless the wing 
Of some night-scaring bird his mind estrange, 
Or eddying wind expend its fitful blast, 
And sink into the deep. Borne on its face, 
And on the dimpled lake that skirts the shore, 
The silent sea-fowl rest. Charm'd by the hour 
From submarine retreat the mermaid steals, 
To roam in freedom o'er the yellow sands 
From curious eye remote ; on some bright rock, 
Or flx'd in admiration,, sits reclin'd, 
Giving her sea-green tresses to the breeze ; 
Then by the shadow of the passing cloud 
Affrighted, hastens to her parent wave. 

Or to the monument of some dark age, 
Whose broken buttress and inclining shaft 
Scarce prop the mould'ring arch, he bends his course; 
And while unseen the night-hawk shrilly screams, 
And through the roofless ivy-darken'd aisle 
The mousing owlet flaps her heavy wing, 
Holds converse with the saints of other days 



J 07 



Long shrouded in the tomb; or haply marks 
Some wretched lover with long watching wan, 
Fixing his hopeless eyes upon the moon, 
And feeding irremediable woe. 
O'er the once sacred path the bramble waves 
Its melancholy stem, and interlaced 
With many a rank wild shrub, invidious hides 
Some fallen mass of monumental pride, 
And time-worn epitaph. The moving shade 
Of the dark bough loose swinging in the wind 
Fleets o'er the pillar 5 d wall, and Fancy starts, 
Appall'd at the vain Phantom she has rais'd. 

Tintern, what sacred awe thy moonlight pile 
At this calm hour inspires : yet in thy walls, 
Sheds Contemplation, to the giddy crowd 
Averse, a kindly solace o'er the soul, 
How sweeter far than is the senseless roar 
Of revelry. Ye desolated tow'rs, 
That dusky rise o'er Conway's peaceful flood ; 
As o'er your grassy crest the night-breeze sighs 
Wild plaintive music, on the ear it breathes 
A sullen transport, exquisite beyond 
The sweetest minstrelsy of harps, that erst 
Your throng'd halls gladden'd with triumphal choir, 

Lo ! from the mountain-ridge descending slow, 



108 NIGHT. IDYLL If. 

On dark expansive wing the tempest sails 
In silent progress. From the plain beneath 
The moon withdraws her many broken rays ; 
Paler, and paler still, the rippling stream 
Its polish'd face presents; now seems awhile 
Total obscur'd, now sudden glows again, 
As glancing from the silver-skirted cloud 
She strikes her lustre far, and strong illumes 
The horrors of the storm. Hark ! distant heard, 
Winding in hollow tumult through the vale, 
The deep-ton'd thunder swells; breaking at length 
Full overhead, quick following the flash, 
Awful and beauteous, round the welkin thrown. 

Yet more impenetrable gloom descends,, 
And closes all from sight; save the bright streak, 
O'er distant billows drawn, that beauteous shines, 
Then fades, and disappears. Around in air 
An awful silence reigns, till the big drop 
Strikes heavy on the leaf; and falls anon, 
Down streaming sudden, the loud rattling show'r 
In dense and copious flood, seen momentary 
Striping the welkin in the vivid flash, 
Now still more frequent; for the dazzl'd eye 
Too brilliant, and by blackest depth of gloom 
Succeeded sudden; hurtful to the sense 
By contrast in extreme. There, angular, 



109 



And there, in line direct shot sudden down, 

Gleams the swift bolt; and lo! yon ancient tow'r 

Rent by the stroke, in massy fragments hurl'd, 

Bounds headlong down the steep, and scatters wide 

Its ruins o'er the vale. Yet soon relent 

The warring elements. As it began, 

At once the rain abates, then ceasing, leaves 

A purer atmosphere. Retiring slow, 

And seeming more condens'd, the sable cope 

Of cloud hangs sullen o'er the waves, long seen 

At intervals bright flashing, and long heard 

Rumbling in distance. As before serene, 

Spreads her effulgence wide th' enliv'ning moon. 

And rock and mountain, mead, and grove, and flood 

By turns appear relucent. All around 

With renovated charms the prospect smiles: 

Strong to the fresh'ning breeze its fragrance gives 

The vegetable world, nor aught intrudes 

To break the quiet, save the whisp'ring leaves 

Of windswept boscage, and repeated sound 

Of drops distilling from the moving boughs. 

Rugged and dark, and as some lengthy chain 

Of distant rocks, now on the horizon rests 

The tempest, and there sinking by degrees, 

Leaves the whole canopy of cloudless hue. 

Silent and stealthy, from concealing cove 
8 



110 NIGHT. IDYLL IV. 

Of th' unfrequented shore, the little boat 
With lawless freight of rundlets issues forth, 
And in the drowsy hour confiding, glides 
Up with the fav'ring tide; nor on her way 
Strikes hostile observation; only -met 
By careless fisher from the distant mart 
Returning, and intent to catch the wind, 
That flaps at ev'ry tack his limber sail ; 
Soon laid aslant, and fill'd, and tracing dark 
Its shadowy semblance on the lucid flood. 

While thus pale moonshine, or impervious gloom, 
With us attendant on the lonesome hour, 
Its character attests; in northern realms 
That rear o'er glacial seas their headlands hoar, 
With unremitting flood of solar light 
The welkin glows transparent, and each plain 
With wonted splendour. Haply some high ridge 
Of intercepting crags may trace its line 
Of deep indented shadow, stretching far, 
And darker seen contrasted with the glare 
Wide spread beyond, o'er lake, and serpent stream. 
Bright'ning the desert with its silver sheet, 
Or dimm'd alternate by the purple cloud 
Light wafted o'er its face. In distance seen 
From the tall eminence, laborious drags 
Against the eddying current his light skiff 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. 1 1 1 

Lapponic boatman. Near some wand'rer's tent 

Sits the lone herdsman watchful o'er his charge 

Of reindeer, and continual driving in 

To closer bounds, with ever-active dog 

The frequent stragglers. Solitary scene, 

For here no field of cultivated grain, 

Here no smoke-wreathing cottage glads the mind 

With social comfort: yet in beauteous robe 

Is vegetation clad; the varied heath 

With golden violet and campion deck'd; 

The dark green waving pasture near the flood 

With aspen copse diversified. The pine, 

With sable branch o'erhangs the close defile, 

From snow-capt mountain-side, whence headlong 

thrown 
O'er rocks enormous, ever boiling flows 
The cataract, whose margin partial shews 
Trembling in gentle breeze the pensile birch. 
Hither digressing rare from southern clime, 
The prospect such by traveller survey'd, 
To melancholy woke by sweetest plaint 
Of Arctic Philomel, from willow grove, 
Pouring her wild notes to the midnight sun. 

On the drear shores, where in more ample gulf 
Rolls the wild Ob; o'er distant Samoyede, 
And Lena's soften'd bank, is Nature seen 
In undiminish'd splendour, putting forth 



112 NIGHT. IDYLL \ 

Full many a flow'ret grateful to the eye 
Of sorrowing exile, or untutor'd boor. 
As in mid-day, beneath the cheering beam 
Still Zembla and Spitzbergen partial shew 
The dwarfish plant, and in resplendent dress 
Of beauteous lichens clad, their rugged steeps. 

And glowing thus, doth Fancy represent 
Remotest Greenland's shores; untrodden tracts 
Extending to the pole, or westerly 
Stretch'd towards the barrier strait, that now admits 
Th' advent'rous navigator, and unfolds 
Some unseen prospect to his curious eye. 

Continue still their direful sport the fleet, 
That yearly dare with devious keel to cleave 
The Hyperborean billows, now awhile 
Open and navigable, in the chase 
Of whales high spouting the columnar flood. 
Mark'd by the watch-boat some dread monster lies 
Broad floating on the surge, then sudden pierc'd, 
Immerges, seeking in his lowest haunts 
To disengage the line: vain effort, soon 
To sight ascending feels he the fresh wound, 
And deep retires again ; again upris'n, 
Lashes horrific the resounding brine, 
His vast unwieldy strength expending fast 
In idle rage, then gor*d with num'rous wounds, 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. 113 

To bold pursuers his huge bulk resigns. 
While many a broad-wing'd vessel hovers near 
To bear away the spoil, bound homeward ere 
September threatens, with huge piles of ice 
Closing around, to shut out all return. 

But what a lengthen'd scene of dubious shade 
Presents hoar winter; yet not destitute 
Of beauties. Then oftimes pale Cynthia shines, 
With orb assuming twice its fullest glow 
Ere morning dawn, and breaking from bright cloud, 
To silvery show'r of falling flakes imparts 
Her radiance, and illumes the snowy sheet 
Spread o'er the waste around; oft striking from 
The prism of chrystal rock reflected beams 
Of rich variety, and beauteous strews 
With countless diamonds the frozen path : 
Then from ethereal course withdrawing, leaves 
To lesser luminaries the fair scene, 
Uninterrupted darting their bright fires 
From the high zenith, or obliquely seen, 
And partial, through the snow-encrusted grove. 
Oft floating on the northern verge of heav'n, 
Blushing effulgence, gleam the boreal lights 
In brilliant circle, or sharp changeful form. 
Filling with novel fantasies the mind 



114 tfl^HT. IDYLL TV. 

Of pleas'd beholders; more tremendous oft, 
Shoot fierce their blazing spears, and hissing loud, 
Stealing from covert startle the grim wolf. 

Beauteous the prospect in our realm, when gleams 
The yellow moon-light o'er hoar frozen dews, 
Tipping snow-tufted cottages with flames 
Of amber paleness : when full influence sheds 
The keen accretive frost, and starbright skies 
Long deck with spangles the scarce ruffled flood, 
Whose stiffening marge shoots forth the chrystal spear 
To stay the rising wave; while on its bank 
Studded with pearl hangs heavy the crisp flag, 
And lofty elms with ice-enwoven bough, 
And willows, take their richest garb to meet 
The dawn's slant radiance, o'er the eastern hill 
Bright glancing. Nor less worthy of the Muse 
The many, various awe-creating scenes, 
"When from Atlantic waves loud blust'ring winds 
Drive swift the flying clouds, and muffle up 
In their dark mantle the wide arch of heav'n. 
When flaring candle of prophetic nurse 
With winding-sheets is pale, and by the gust 
Shook from his perch, the boding raven flaps 
The windows of the sick, and croaking death, 
The feeble wretch appalls; when hollow moans, 



115 






Along the vaulted passage frequent heard, 
Mimic the restless ghost, and long preclude 
Affrighted kitchen malkins from repose. 

O'er equatorial seas, descending dark 
The shadows thicken, till long-heaving waves 
Rear their rough crests gloom. On outward course, 
The wakeful mariner here contemplates 
In new magnificence the starry world : 
Gradual declining, total disappear 
Those friendly constellations that so oft 
Have met his eye. Light phosphorescent clouds, 
Pale scatter'd nebulae, o'er blackest stole, 
Beauteous invest the sky. Irradiate lights 
The Ship her distant fires, and seen with joy, 
Marking the silent hour, the southern Cross. 



With features dire, diversifies the scene 
Th' impetuous hurricane. Together pil'd 
In solid seeming rack, when lurid clouds 
By livid lightning shewn, portentous hang, 
And pregnant with vast ruin, threaten long 
In awful grandeur. On the tempest's wing 
Gloomy the fiend of desolation seems 
Collecting all his terrors, and there broods, 
And reddens into wrath; then launches forth 
i 2 



116 NIGHT. IDYLL 

His violence resistless. In the glare 

Of sulphurous sheet seem kindled the wild waves, 

Or reigns, amid obscurity profound, 

Uproar unutterable; on the ear 

Pealing on all sides the protracted roar 

Of thunder, of successive billows dash'd 

In deluge o'er the deck, and its whole length 

Sweeping tremendous ; while the northern blast 

Through cordage whistles shrill, then fiercer grown 

Veers sudden, and at once bears helpless down 

To whelming ruin the devoted bark. 

And all again is tranquil, with the dawn 

Scarce a soft zephyr wantons o'er the wave. 

But be our theme the crowded haunt of man, 
Where mirth inspires, where dissipation spreads 
Contagious, as loose Fashion holds her sway; 
Where woe abounds, and on the lively joys 
Of social life attendant, dread alarms. 

Tir'd of the toilsome duties of the day, 
On relaxation bent, the burgher leaves 
His close abode; the man of pleasure seeks, 
With zest augmented, the refulgent halls 
Of gaiety; and with redoubled charms, 
Smile o'er the leisure hour the courteous fair. 



117 



O'er the gay scene Terpsichore, attir'd 
By the fair graces, leads her airy band 
In changeful elegance, while Gallic art, 
And Grecian fable their attractions join 
To captivate the sense. Thee, sportful nymph, 
Thy sister Muse shall hail, nor scorn morose 
Thy love-exciting pow'r. Here too resounds 
The choral strain of harmony, or soft 
Lavish in rapid scale their flying notes, 
The finish'd warblers of Italian school : 
Lost to th' unpractis'd ear, and by some deem'd 
But suited to emasculate the mind : 
As erst, Timotheus, was by Spartan seers 
Thy many-modulated lay, when spite 
Of all thy high-prais'd skill, their harsh decree 
Struck from thy lyre its fascinating strings. 

But join we not with those of deaden'd ear, 
Of cold and sullen bosom, who defy 
The sweet accord of sounds, and will not yield 
Their close affections to an empty noise. 
Lament we rather, that no splendid fane, 
No meet Odeum sacred to the pow'rs 
Of vocal harmony, of wind and string, 
Unfolds its portal, where the lofty ode 
In dignity sublime might raise the soul. 



118 NIGHT. IDYLL I 

Such if there were, the British Muse might rise 
More daring still; and British audience 
With scientific ear investigate 
Of simultaneous, or successive sounds 
The sweet affinity; their various pow'rs 
Of imitation scan, and not as now 
Unmeaning skill in execution praise, 
111 tim'd, and of the fluency of verse 
So oft destructive; should the theme accord, 
Though charming were the wild capricious strain. 

Hateful the garish splendour of the Court; 
Its fulsome flatt'ry ; of plain honest bard 
Unfit to stain the page: leave we unsung 
The vain parade, the witless pride that waits 
On the dull banquet; the magnificence 
Of gilded domes, where the rich sparkling bands 
Of beauty shine in blazonry of gems, 
Wanting but one, but that, the only charm 
That cureless wounds the heart, simplicity. 

And 'twere impossible to represent 
The thousand sprightly scenes that now delight; 
To note the rapid minutes as they pass, 
Where Pleasure, fair enchantress, through the group 
Of motley maskers leads her smiling train ; 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. 119 

Where fairy-footed ladies twine the dance, 
Darting delicious anguish from bright eyes, 
And, kindling inextinguishable flames. 

But claims regard chill poverty. Now wakes 
To crime the shameless retinue of vice. 
Oft in yon portal, houseless and forlorn, 
Trembles the pallid victim of distress, 
And sinking helpless, silently upbraids 
A guilty, thoughtless, and unfeeling world. 
Prowling for prey, while yet th' expiring lamp 
But feebly glimmers through the lone obscure, 
Marks the approaching sound of ev'ry step 
The lurking robber. From the fatal spot 
Hurries the dark assassin, and imbrued 
In blood, already rues his impious deed, 
And pants and shudders if the idle boy 
But fix on him his ken. Ah ! whither fly ? 
Where shun the sight thy fearful eye beheld, 
Of innocence in agonies of death 
Struggling beneath thy hand ; distorted turn'd 
On thee the livid feature ; ever fresh 
In damning recollection, ever keen, 
Striking new horrors through thy tortur'd soul. 

From long-protracted feast, in uproar loud 
Sallies the wild, intoxicated train 



120 NIGHT. IDYLL IV. 

Of youthful folly. Silent o'er the card 

In calculation, or in doubt immers'd 

The graver circle rest; and deep involv'd 

In Fortune's snares, at once the gamester casts, 

Determining his doom, the chanceful die. 

Nor vacant yet is the convivial hall, 

Where in familiar converse grows mature 

Philosophy, devoid of the false arts 

Of public eloquence, of vague harangue, 

Specious deliver'd to deceive the crowd. 

And oft in midst of gaiety retir'd, 
While calm and calmer grows the social stir 
Beneath, and pauses frequent, is the bard 
Awake to ev'ry energy of soul. 
And buoyant on imagination, toss'd 
In blissful tumult wild. For minutes pass 
His rapid hours, until the lamp expires; 
Then hov'ring o'er his pillow kindred dreams 
Enshroud his senses, and still hold him wrapt 
In ecstasy, till sunshine o'er the scene 
Intrudes, and lights him to the doleful change. 

At length her peaceful empire o'er the world 
Has Sleep resum'd. Beneath her influence 
Entranc'd the city lies; its weary guards 
Have long forgot their charge : no murmur breaks 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. 121 

Through the lone street, save when the midnight bell 

Rolls heavily its chimes upon the wind, 

To mark the slumb'ring hour. Surrounding gloom 

Hangs thick, till from some fabric deep immur'd, 

The purple glow ascends, and unobserv'd 

Through the dun void a strong effulgence sheds. 

Rising in grandeur now, the fumid clouds 

Darker and darker still their volumes roll, 

And in their pitchy mantle from the eye 

Inwrap the struggling flame; now dusky grown 

Curl swifter through the air, and bear along 

Their gleaming spangles high ; then forth at once 

Breaks the wide-spreading blaze, envelops all, 

And kindles ether's concave. Nought avails 

Attention now arous'd, from house to house 

The conflagration runs, and by the gale 

ImpelFd, with still increasing vigour pours 

Dread havoc far. The many pillar'd fane, 

To check its vehemence in vain uprears 

Its massive wall ; through molten windows straight 

It sweeps resistless, and in man's despite, 

Brings the proud dome loud thund'ring to the ground. 

Now cow'ring low, as on fresh spoil they feed, 

Like banners in a blast the torrents wave ; 

Now darting high their spires, at distance seem 

Of varying hue a bright continuous flood. 

Loud through the street the pealing larum sounds, 

In fearful haste assembling from their homes 



122 NIGHT. IDYLL IV. 

The half-apparel'd throng, in fix'd amaze 

Whose deep encrimson'd faces gaping wild 

Block up each avenue. Too late awoke, 

In lonely chamber, from his couch aghast 

Starts the deserted wretch, and sees at once 

Inevitable ruin. Closing fast 

Round his high turret, roar the glowing flakes ; 

While from his lattice, through the mingled din, 

His shrieks strike deep on Pity's wounded ear, 

Asking that succour which he knows is vain. 

Oft by the crowd beneath is he beheld 

In helpless hurry ; desperate at length 

He rushes on his fate, and leaping forth, 

At one rude shock disperses life, and lies 

A black, and mangled carcase on the plain. 

Keen as the devastation, Rapine scours 
The half-dismantled street, and makes his gain 
Of powerless Affright. Officious Zeal 
With best intention swells the gen'ral woe ; 
While Contemplation stands aloof, and sees 
Amid the tow'ring flames, and awful crash 
Of falling battlements, the fate of Troy ; 
Or, in resemblance dire, imperial Rome 
Bending in terror 'neath a tyrant's nod. 

How terrible, renowned London, how 
Afflictive was thy doom, when sank involv'd 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. ] 23 

In the fierce element thine ancient halls ; 

Last of calamities beneath the sway 

Of second Charles, that laid thee desolate. 

Lo ! retrospection rests upon thy streets 

Branching destruction wide, and kindled, through 

Successive nights, in long-extended lines 

Of flame; from redden'd Thames reflected bright, 

Glaring horrific on his distant shores, 

And striking full upon the crouded bark 

Amazement and dismay : now marks the fears, 

Faint hopes, and dumb despair, alternate fixt 

On the sad merchant's cheek, from wealth and. ease 

Plung'd in the lapse of but a few short hours 

In indigence extreme ; of all bereft 

The artisan lamenting loud his loss, 

And, smiling horrid joy mid deepest woe, 

The villain preying on another's thrift. 

Such was the scene, consider'd once the worst 
Of evils shower'd down by angry fate 
On suff 'ring Britons ; bearing with it yet 
A boon from fav'ring Heav'n, the remedy 
Effectual, though severe of pestilence 
Erst ever lurking in some nook obscure; 
But banish'd now from airy domes, that rose 
In tenfold grandeur o'er the smould'ring waste. 



124 NIGHT. IDYLL I 

Alive to all the images of fear, 
That hides in cowl of shade the guilty hour, 
What perils, real or imaginary, 
Strike th' apprehension ! Doubly terrible, 
When Danger walks in darkness, or half seen, 
Seems his approach. What plots and dark cabals 
Nurtur'd at midnight, could the Muse recount, 
That as old records signify, at once 
Have swept the slumb'ring monarch from his throne 
At Usurpation's nod ! What awful scenes 
Of general rebellion, rais'd so oft 
By the misdeeds of rulers, to o'erthrow 
Themselves, and abrogate-perverted pow'r : 
Of impious persecution, more than all 
Disgraceful to humanity; suborn'd 
When brutal soldiers turn their coward blades 
On unarm'd innocence, and on their way, 
Crimson with human gore each portal reeks; 
When by the blazing torch swift hurried through 
Th' offenceless multitude, are tremulous seen 
Pale bearded age, and suppliant youth, alike 
Suing in vain for life ; whilst infants, scar'd 
At gleaming brands, cling closer to the breast 
Of shrieking mothers, whose bare arms outstretch'd 
Would turn the stroke, till both together fall, 
Transpierc'd, and writhing on the murd'rous steel. 



125 



Lutetia, fair resort of lib'ral arts. 
Of thoughtless gaiety, yet oft defil'd 
With blood and massacre, thy palaces 
By Medicean Catharine distain'd. 
Thick strewn with slaughter'd citizens thy streets, 
Rise to my sight, and mark the dire excess 
Of Bigotry ; of mad religious Zeal 
Trampling on ev'ry ordinance of God. 

Now must the martial feuds of man, that oft 
So strong a feature to the hour impart, 
Our brief regard engage ; for while secure 
Whole legions slumber, and a wakeful voice 
Scarce murmurs through the camp, are distant bands 
Arous'd to onset, daring enterprise, 
Where the breach'd bulwark of the fortress glares 
The theatre of battle. But not here, 
With jar of drum, or cornets' swelling blast, 
With charge of squadron, and loud clash of arms, 
Begins the mortal fray. Prevails around 
A deep, continued silence, till the sound 
Of manifold, and simultaneous steps, 
From hollow way faint echo'd, strikes alarm 
To list'ning sentries, and disclosing ray 
Shed from blue light effulgent, strong illumes 
The ranks in mute advance ; in lustre glanc'd 
Beauteous o'er moving bayonet and lance, 



126 NIGHT. IDYL 

And spreading o'er each face along the line 

A ghastly pallor. Sudden on the sight 

In all their grandeur burst the flames of war ; 

Successive volley, never-ceasing round 

Of deaf'ning ordnance, and bright-gleaming bomb 

Meteorous on high ; still hast'ning on 

Th' assault. Soon follows the tumultuous scene 

Of fierce assailing throngs in escalade 

From ramparts headlong thrown, or pressing on, 

Elate, with shout victorious, instant drown'd 

In the loud thunder of th' exploding mine, 

Spreading more ample havoc, and anon 

Down on their comrades pouring the thick show'r 

Of massy smoking fragments dy'd with gore, 

And sear'd, and mangled limbs. Still is renew'd 

The perilous attempt", until beheld 

O'er a vast ruin, through dispersing smoke, 

High on the citadel triumphant waves 

Their ensign, and proclaims the conquest theirs. 

Hence glory gilds their helms. But yonder see. 
In full retreat beneath the shelt'ring gloom, 
Prest by th' impending foe, the midnight march 
Brings on the cheerless file. The tale of fear. 
Augmented by each tongue, spreads fast its bane 
Along the broken rank, and discipline, 
That o'er the vet'ran's front had long impos'd 



127 



A shield of safeguard, leaving him serene 

Amid the dubious conflict, through the hour 

Of peril ever bold, now faulters with 

The hasty step ; and from the throbbing heart 

Is resolution flown. New-kindled fires 

Gleam on the threat'ned flank, seeming to shew 

On ev'ry eminence a countless host ; 

Disorder thickens, and still growing more 

Subversive, prompts accelerated flight : 

A lawless multitude by panic wing'd, 

Scarce knowing whither, now they hurry on : 

While, a gigantic phantom, swelling still 

Its unsubstantial form, pale Terror strides 

Fast on their rear, and brandishing on high 

A beacon's fire, full blazing o'er their heads, 

Onward impels them to more certain fate. 

And sad th' event, where some impeding flood 
Their way divides. Too narrow for their course, 
Too fragile for their violence, the bridge 
Block'd up, invites approach but to deceive, 
And aggravate still more the fatal strife 
Self-preservation prompts ; soon broken down, 
It offers but a wreck, and where the ford 
Unknown, and where the deeps a passage sought, 
Beneath the eddying wave battalions sink 
O'erwhelm'd and succourless. More adverse still, 



128 NIGHT. I 

Seiz'd by the wary foe, the close defile, 
Assail'd in vain with many a rash attempt 
Of desperation : wading deep in blood, 
Here Slaughter indefatigable strikes 
New victims crowding on her, and in haste 
Still to augment her quarry, vainly strives 
To glut with carcases the jaws of death. 

Worn with discomfiture, of hope bereft, 
Nought for the small surviving band remains 
But hard submission. Sullen roll the hours. 
Till rising morn upon his fellow's cheek 
Shews each the gloomy image of despair: 
Scarce lessen'd, by the stipulated terms 
Of treaty, haply faithless, haply such 
As the best int'rests of their native land 
Annuls, and leaves it open to the grasp. 
The devastation, of a conqueror's hand. 

Big with poetic horrors nurs'd in gloom, 
Of Gorgon, or Chimera front, awakes 
Dread Superstition ; by loose train of birds, 
Shaking dire omens from their shadowy wings y 
Attended, and but half discern'd, stalks forth 
In silence from the mansions of the dead *. 
Commissions now her ready ministers 
In human semblance, of approaching fate 



129 



Prophetic ever held, and from the wave 

Rises the shrouded spectre to reveal 

The storm-tost vessel's doom. Irradiate stands, 

In form as lovely, but with bloodless cheek, 

Sweetly despondent near her lover's couch 

The plighted maid, and with alluring smile, 

Beckons and points out the cold nuptial bed 

That Death has rais'd. In his accustom'd guise 

Appears the buried friend, and summons from 

A scene of misery to realms of bliss, 

Of pure delightful virtue, him who oft 

Has with him struggled through the storms of life* 

And still remains upon its troublous sea, 

Worn out with sorrow, hopeless and forlorn. 

And oft, abstracted from all worldly cares^ 
Delights the soul o'er visionary themes 
To range uncheck'd, and feign that pleasing awe 
Of disembodied shapes, the offspring wild 
Of bard's prolific brain. While through the haze 
Glimmers the moon-beam faintly o'er the tombs ; 
While broken shadows from yon blasted yews 
Change with the varying light, would Fancy now 
Raise the pale phantom from the yawning grave ; 
And with her own creation heighten thus 
The silent solemn scene. In yon drear range 
Of cloisters, darken'd with their ivy shade, 

K 



ISO NIGHT. IDYLL 1 

Sullen and sad the spirit seems to glide, 

Untimely hurried by some guilty hand 

To his last home, and ever-restless seeks 

His former haunts. But inconsistent with 

The tranquil prospect of a future state 

Were the disheart'ning thought : hateful the change, 

If like the discontented ghosts of old, 

In Grecian fable to Leucadian rock 

Collected driven, or for fisher's bark, 

To waft them sudden to Britannic isle, 

Waiting in shrill complaint, with shrieks we fill'd, 

Like sudden startled bats, some hollow shore. 

Hateful, if devious hov'ring on the verge 

Of Acheron, imploring oft in vain 

The ghastly ferryman, and haply doom'd, 

Still unattended, ever to remain 

Solicitous. Ah, rather should we deem 

Them truly fortunate, from toil releas'd, 

And miserable bondage, who depart 

With crime unsullied to another world. 

Hard were the task of this wide reigning power 
To scrutinize the source, though Science erst 
By the illiterate and wond'ring herd 
Nam'd Magic, hath by many been ascrib'd 
To Bactrian Zoroaster, who refin'd, 
Long ere his sacred code gave Hebrew sage, 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. i31 

Unartful man ; and in pure element, 
Then Oromasdes call'dj the great good pow'r 
Ador'd. Whose sect still on the Caspians' shore 
Bows to the naphtha flame. Yet would it seem 
That in fresh vigour did th' imposture shoot, 
When, from connubial love, fond Isis rais'd 
Excessive honours to her mangled spouse 
Through Egypt's vast domain ; to lordly pow'r 
Whence crafty Priesthood rose, and over realms 
With symbol dark, and mystery absurd, 
Imposing on a rude unthinking race, 
Far distant spread its sway : Soon Hellas caught 
Th' infatuation, by inventive bard 
With various and inimitable charms 
Of fable deck'd exuberant, though held 
In scorn by seers of philosophic school ; 
And there in early times was cherish'd oft 
Foul immorality, as now it is 
In Indian realm, with immolation dire 
To Juggernaut, and reverence obscene 
Of Lingam. Hence it probably made way 
O'er many a barbarous region, deep immur'd 
In Scythian wild, and changeful as it pass'd 
O'er Occidental Europe, gave its aid 
To crown ambition's temples, and confirm 
Dominion absolute. Retiring far 
From Pompey's conqu'ring arm, here Fridulph's son, 
k2 



132 NIGHT. IDYLL IV. 

Assuming to himself the sacred name 
Of Odin, by his magic fame attain'd 
Full sovereignty, and left his kindred, gods 
O'er the believing million ; whose exploits, 
Bold and miraculous, so oft were sung 
In wild, terrific strain by Northern scald j 
And agents fabulous, in countless train 
Were nurtur'd to intimidate, and keep 
In servile ignorance the mind of man. 

And long o'er many a wide extended tract 
The fraud endur'd, ere Christian lore prevail'd 
With purer moral and more simple creed, 
And woke the rude barbarian to the charms 
Of ev'ry milder virtue. Long o'er the East, ; 
Ere sage Mohammed through the Sabian world 
His light diffus'd, and from inhuman tribe 
Of Kendah and of Koreish banish'd each 
Unholy rite, and sole obeisance 
To One eternal sanction'd. Yet ev'n now, 
Like the delusive flame that oft appears 
To nightly traveller, doth it mislead 
From the safe path of reason thoughtless man. 

No longer now upon the thyme-bank seen* 
In prankish revel trip the fairy elves ; 
Nor ring nor roundelaye of theirs upon 



IDYLL IV. NIGHT. 133 

The dewy mead is danc'd. Hence are they flown 
With Sylphic train, and Genii, to sport 
In balmy covert of Arabian grove, 
Knit with their kindred Dives. Scarce ever known, 
Wand'ring adown the moonlight hedge, where hangs 
The dusky nightshade its envenom'd bow'r, 
Where the rank henbane grows, and adderstongue, 
Potent in hellish charm the wither'd witch. 
Frightful to rustic's eye, the ghost appears 
In sole possession of the haunted glade. 

Whilst all is calm around, let me survey 
The hoar basaltic cavern on the sea 
In grandeur op'ning, whose high columns rais'd 
By Nature's hand inimitable, cast 
A pearly radiance o'er the lucid face 
Of waters, wafting the pale visag'd moon 
In gentle undulation. Through the rocks 
The snow-white sail fast fleeting, and anon 
Emerging regular, and on the sight 
Mashing with silver gleam the feather'd oars. 
Thence, on the lofty promontory's crest, 
That backs the light, in dubious veil enwrapt 
Of shadow, still and sullen seems to sit 
The giant Spectre, pensive o'er the surge 
That lashes the dark strand ; long gaz'd upon 
By wakeful mariner, and ominous 



134 NIGHT. IDYLI 

By fear-struck fancy held. Nor less the ear 
Amusive charms of fiction there partakes, 
Fiction that ever to the ravish'd sense 
Gives keener transport. Sweeping the high vault 
Resounds the murm'ring breeze, in lengthen'd 

swell 
Now loud, now dying tremulous away 
In mournful melody. Soft dashing waves, 
With sound by replication sweeten'd, join 
Th' aerial chant, in symphony divine 
Of mystic harps now seeming in full choir, 
And raise the soul to heav'n; now heard alone, 
Breathing faint whispers, soothe her to repose. 

But at this solemn hour are other strains 
Oftimes immingled ; strains of keenest woe. 
When blust'ring Autumn wraps in shadowy cloud 
The perilous expanse, and driv'n by storms 
From Ocean's open field the foreign bark 
Distressful seeks the cove, and drifting fast 
Without a pilot, on the fatal reef 
Strikes sudden. From her deck tumultuous borne 
Is consternation's voice. Th' impetuous surge, 
In whelming deluge through her shatter'd side, 
Imagination sees : increasing still 
Confusion louder reigns, and straight is heard 
One helpless, piercing shriek, and all is hush'd. 
6 



13i 



Oft to the tow'r or elevated plain, 
Whence unimpeded, wide the view extends, 
Her philosophic train let Science lead, 
To scan the star-bright heaven, where appears 
Th' eternal godhead infinite in pow'r, 
Great beyond human thought, by thee reveal'd, 
Pythagoras, immortal Newton shewn, 
By thee, sublime, surpassing utmost flight 
Of bardic emanation. Where shall man 
The universal Father contemplate 
In equal glory ? Where shall he so clear 
Read his own insignificance, as where 
He sees a bright plurality of worlds ; 
Imagines systems numberless, the work 
Of one supreme, directed, and preserv'd 
Beauteous in never deviating course ? 

But ere long, glimm'ring o'er the eastern wave 
Will twilight pale the gloom ; with jocund song, 
Ere long, will chanticleer salute the dawn, 
And rouse the tuneful lark. Come gentle Sleep, 
From silent bow'r, in ebon shades immur'd, 
Where mandrake and green hemlock knit their leaves, 
And dew-steep'd poppies hang their heavy heads 
Beneath the breathless calm, in comfort come, 
And lull my weary bosom to repose. 
Banish thy fearful demons to the couch 



136 NIGHT. IDYIX IV, 

Of ever restless guilt; lo ! there reclines 
The fell despoiler of the orphan's store ; 
The ruthless miser who would wring the mite 
From bleeding poverty ; the wretch malign 
Whose baleful breath was ever prompt to blight 
The flow'r of innocence ; the flatt'rer there, 
And fawning sycophant ; their sordid hearts 
Corrode with all the venom of remorse, 
Till, in their dreams appall'd, they pine and fade ? 
Like haggard phantoms hover o'er the grave, 
And start at keener torments still to come. 



NOTES. 



NOTES 



IDYLL L 



But let the bard of bright Iran, &c. 

Hafiz thus commences one of his Gazels, as paraphrased 
by Hindley, 

In roses veil'd the mom displays 
Her charms, and blushes as we gaze ; 
Come wine, my gay companions, pour, 
Observant of the morning hour. 



140 NOTES TO 

Then come, your thirst with wine allay, 
Attentive to the dawn of day. 
See, spangling dew-drops trickling chase, 
Adown the tulip's vermeil face; 



O'er rough Benacus by its mountain blast, 
The lago di srarda. 



A recent traveller thus describes a storm on this lake. 
" We left Sermione after sun-set ; and lighted by the moon, 
glided smoothly over the lake to Desensano, four miles dis- 
tant, where, about eight, we stepped from the boat into a 
very good inn. So far the appearance of the Benacus was 
very different from the description which Virgil has given of 
its stormy character. Before we retired to rest, about mid- 
night, from our windows we observed it still calm and un- 
ruffled. About three in the morning I was roused from 
sleep by the door and windows bursting open at once, and 
the wind roaring round the room. I started up, and, look- 
ing out, observed, by the light of the moon, the lake in the 
most dreadful agitation, and the waves dashing against the 
walls of the inn, and resembling the swellings of the ocean. 



IDYLL 1. 141 

more than the petty agitation of inland waters. Shortly- 
after the landlord entered with a lantern, closed the outward 
shutters, expressed some apprehensions, but at the same 
time assured me, that their houses were built to resist such 
sudden tempests, and that I might repose with confidence 
under a roof, which had withstood full many a storm as 
terrible as that which occasioned our present alarm. Next 
morning the lake so tranquil and serene the evening before, 
presented a surface covered with foam, and swelling into 
mountain billows, that burst in breakers every instant at 
the very door of the inn, and covered the whole house with 
spray. Virgil's description now seemed Nature itself, and 
taken from the very scene actually Under our eyes ; it was 
impossible not to exclaim, 

Teque 
Fluctibus et fremitu assurgens, Benace, marino. 

Georg. II. 
Eustace, Classical Tour in Italy. 



In foam Velino thund'ring down its steep, &c. 

The height of the fall of the Velino, near Terni, is usually 
considered about three hundred feet. A particular de- 



142 NOTES TO 

scription of a scene, so frequently visited and admired by 
travellers, would be here of little utility. 



And long unus'd 
To the rude conflict of infuriate war. 

Unlike Tyrtaeus amongst the Spartans, the immortal 
Chiabrera seems not to have been very successful in his 
warlike exhortation, however excellent. 

Quando ai suoi gioghi Italia alma traea 
Barbare torme di pallor dipinte, 
E regie braccia di gran ferri avvinte 
Scorgeasi a pie la trionfal Tarpea ; 

Non pendean, pompa dell' Idalia Dea, 
Sul fianco de' guerrier le spade cinte, 
Ma d'atro sangue ribagnate e tinte 
Vibrarle in campo ciascun' alma ardea. 

Infra ghiacci, infra turbine, infra fuochi 
Spingeano su' destrier Taste ferrate 
Intenti il mondo a ricoprir d'orrore ; 



143 



E noi tra danze in amorosi giuochi, 
Neghittosi miriam nostra viltate 
Esser trionfo dell' altrui furore. 



And here in mitigation, &c. 

Although, in most savage nations, and in many of those 
which may be called half-civilized, human sacrifices are not 
unfrequent, no where do they appear to have been so pre- 
valent as in Mexico, before the arrival of the Spaniards. 
Most of her monarchs were warlike and successful, and 
every prisoner of war was offered up. Robertson thus 
speaks of some of the followers of Cortes. " The approach 
of night, though it delivered the dejected Spaniards from 
the attacks of the enemy, ushered in, what was hardly less 
grievous, the noise of their barbarous triumph, and of the 
horrid festival with which they celebrated their victory. 
Every quarter of the city was illuminated ; the great temple 
shone with such peculiar splendour, that the Spaniards 
could plainly see the people in motion, and the priests busy 
in hastening the preparations for the death of the prisoners. 
Through the gloom, they fancied they discerned their com- 
panions by the whiteness of their skins, as they were stripped 
naked, and compelled to dance before the image of the god 
to whom they were to be offered. They heard the shrieks 



1 44 NOTES TO 

of those who were sacrificed, and thought they Could dis- 
tinguish each unhappy victim by the well known sound of 
his voice. Imagination added to what they really saw or 
heard, and augmented its horror. The most unfeeling 
melted into tears of compassion, and the stoutest heart 
trembled at the dreadful spectacle which they beheld." 

Kobertson, Hist. Amer. Book v. 



The same author adds in a note, " The station of Al- 
varado on the causeway of Tacuba was the nearest to the 
city. Cortes observes, that there they could distinctly ob- 
serve what passed when their countrymen were sacrificed. 
B. Diaz, who belonged to Alvarado's division, relates what 
he beheld with his own eyes. Like a man whose courage 
was so clear as to be above suspicion, he describes with his 
usual simplicity the impression which this spectacle made 
upon him. " Before," says he, " I saw the breasts of my 
companions opened, their hearts yet fluttering offered to an 
accursed idol, and their flesh devoured by their exulting 
enemies, I was accustomed to enter a battle not only with- 
out fear, but with high spirit. But from that time I never 
advanced to fight the Mexicans without a secret horror and 
anxiety; my heart trembled at the thoughts of the death I 
had seen them suffer." He takes care to add, that as soon 



145 



as the combat began his terror went off, and indeed his 
adventurous bravery on every occasion is full evidence of 
this. 



Instructive Bard, in whom Apollo join'd, &c. 

Dr. Armstrong, author of the justly admired poem on the 
Art of preserving Health. 



NOTES 



IDYLL II. 



Retract their ill-proportion'd shade. 



Gia il Sole, in verso mezzo giorno cala, 
E vien l'ombre stremando, che raccorcia; 
Dh. loro proportione e brutta e mala, 
Come a figura dipinta in iscorcia ; 
Rinforzava il suo canto la cicala, 
E'l mondo ardeva a guisa d' una torcia ; 
L'aria sta cheta, ed ogni fronde salda 
Nella stagion piu dispettosa, e calda. 

Lorenzo. La caccia col falcone. 
l2 



148 NOTES TO 

Of vast banyan, &c. 

After the prints and descriptions of this enormous tree, 
which have been published, a detail of its peculiarities 
would be superfluous. It is said to be much frequented by 
doves, peacocks, boolbuls and other birds. 



As yet by man untutor'd the baya. 

Of this little bird an account is given in the Asiatic Re- 
searches, vol. ii. — " He may be taught with ease to fetch a 
piece of paper, or any small thing that his master points 
out to him. It is an attested fact, that if a ring be dropped 
into a deep well, and a signal given to him, he will fly down 
with amazing celerity, catch the ring before it touches the 
water, and bring it up to his master with apparent exulta- 
tion. It is the popular belief that he lights his nest with 
fire-flies." 



Tired of the chase, &c. 

Ou $£/**?} w KOifji.uv, to jMEo-aju/Sftvov, a S'Eju.tj ajupy 

Tav»x,» xEJtpjxwj upwuvnou. ThEOC. Id. i. 



IDYLL II. 14-9 

Ev'n the blythe lark, &c. 

Ov&EmTvixlSiSioi ko^vSkX^zs nXatvovrou. 

Theoc. Id. vii. 



By Smyrna's second sad lamented son. 

Txto, MsXn, viov ocXyoc/ axaiXsTo Tr^avloi 'O/xnfOj, 

T»JVO TO KaXXt ottoo; yXVKlgOY O-TOfJUX.' x.a,t 0"6 Myovri 

MygEjOat xaXov viae, 7roXvx.Xa,v<;oi<7i psEflfotf, 

ITacrav ^WXnaaj <p«v«j dXa.' vvv ff«X»v aXkov 

YUct ^axfuH?. Epitaph. Bionis. 



It is highly probable that Bion passed much of his time 
in Sicily. Moschus in the abovementioned Idyll desires the 
nightingales to tell the waters of Arethusa of his death. 

A&jvej om ffUKvoiCiv o^vfOjusvaj ffOTt (fyvKXaiq, 
Na/jiao 1 ! to*s "EnaXon; ayystXccre T«jj Ags9acr«s, 
'OrJt Biwv teQvohcev o BwjcoXoj, ot7j <tvv avrta 
Kou to fAE^of teSvkxe, h«* wTieto Aw^ij aoid«. 






150 NOTBS TO 

And him who sweetly tun'd the lays of love. 

Daphnis, whose fate is so sweetly sung by Thyrsis in the 
first Idyll of Theocritus, is by many considered the earliest 
of the Sicilian pastoral poets. 



On the green surface of the placid sea, 
The nautilus &c. 

Er* ^ Ttff yAa^Ufw xfxaAi»ju.|u£voj ofrgaxw t%0f? 
.Mog$m> <7r&?iV7ro$e<Tmv aAiyxtoj, ov xaA£y<r» 
NaurtAov, oMttrxriv ETnxAEa vaurtAtwt. 
Nats* fxfv 4/a/xaSoi;, avaS' £§%£Tat ax^ov £? v^ 
ITgrivwff, o^^a xe fx»i pv EV»7rA*50-£»s $aAao-o-«. 
AAA 3 ot' avaTrAaxr*) pwStwv j57T££ Aju^iTf*-™? 
A»4/a fAET«5-j£i|)9£ij vauTtAAfrat, wj-' axa-roto 
Id§*j avjjf' dots? ju,£v avw Trodaj, wyf xaAwaj, 
'AvravuEJ' jweo-o-os 3e haggiu, wti "kcu$o<;, 
Aetttos ujlw, avE/xwrE TiTaivETai" ai/raf ive§0e 
Aaioi, a'Ao; 4' ai/om ?> fojxote; oj>ucso"«n, 
IIoju.7rot i9vvso"i o^ojuoi/ xat v»a jcom t%Suv. 
'AAA'ote TajjSncrj) o^e^oGev xaxov, sxcr'awTaij 

<E>£liyEt EOTTfEiJ/aj, <7UV Vi<f!C«,<Tl ItOiVTM %«A»V«, 



IDYLL II. 151 

r$-*«' T, OlMKSTE, TO J'«9p00V £v3ov eJeXTO 

Klines, /3aguvojiAEiio? te KaSsXxETai vSwroj o^/a*?. 

Opp. Halieut. 1. 

In hollow shell conceal'd, 
And not unlike polypedes, frequents 
The Nautilus the sandy bottom ; from 
His nautical ability so call'd. 
Hence unimpeded in his rise ascends 
Prone to the surface, and then turning, rides, 
Like an experienc'd mariner, the wave. 
For sail two feet extend to catch the breeze, 
An intermediate membrane, two beneath 
Immergent for his helm direct his bark 
And habitation. But alarm'd, he trusts 
No longer to the breeze, at once draws in 
His sail and rudder, fills his little shell, 
And sinks immediate in the whelming flood. 



His chequer'd vans and dark blue coat of mail 
Displays the dragon fly. — 

The dragon-fly (libellula) is 6aid by naturalists to remain 
in the water, in the larva and pupa state, two years. It 
emerges and takes wing towards the decline of summer, 
and perishes in the earliest frost. 



152 NOTES TO 

Thus where Barrady. 

The account given by Maundrill of this river and of Da- 
mascus, may be worth transcribing. On arriving at the 
brink of a neighbouring precipice, he observes : 

" At the highest part of the precipice is erected a small 
structure, like a Sheck's sepulchre, concerning which the 
Turks relate this story: — 'That their prophet coming near 
Damascus, took his station at that place for some time in 
order to view the city ; and considering the ravishing beauty 
and delightfulness of it, he would not tempt his frailty by 
entering into it ; but instantly departed, with this reflection 
upon it, that there was but one Paradise designed for man, 
and for his part he was resolved not to take his in this 
world.' 

" You have indeed from the precipice the most perfect 
view of Damascus. And certainly no place in the world 
can promise the beholder, at a distance, greater voluptuous- 
ness. It is situate in an even plain of so great extent, that 
you can but just discern the mountains that compass it on 
the further side. It stands on the west side of the plain, at 
not above two miles' distance from the place where the river 
Barrady breaks out from between the mountains; its gardens 
extending almost to the very place. 



IDYLL II. 153 

" The city itself is of a long straight figure; its ends 
pointing near north-east and south-west. It is very slender 
in the middle ; but swells bigger at each end, especially at 
that to the north-east. In its length, as far as I could guess 
by my eye, it may extend near two miles. It is thick set with 
mosques and steeples, the usual ornaments of the Turkish 
cities ; and is encompassed with gardens extending no less, 
according to common estimation, than thirty miles round ; 
which makes it look like a noble city in a vast wood. The 
gardens are thick set with fruit-trees of all kinds, kept fresh 
and verdant by the waters of Barrady. You discover in 
them many turrets, and steeples, and summer-houses, fre- 
quently peeping out from amongst the green boughs, which 
may be conceived to add no small advantage and beauty 
to the prospect. On the north side of this vast wood is a 
place called Solkees, where are the most beautiful summer- 
houses and gardens. 

" The greatest part of this pleasantness and fertility pro- 
ceeds, as I said, from the waters of the Barrady, which 
supply both the gardens and the city in great abundance. 
This river, as soon as it issues out from between the cleft 
of the mountain before-mentioned, into the plain, is imme- 
diately divided into three streams, of which the middlemost 
and biggest runs directly to Damascus, through a large open 



154; NOTES TO 

field called Ager Damascenus, and is distributed to all the 
cisterns and fountains of the city. The other two (which I 
take to be the work of art) are drawn round, one to the right 
hand, and the other to the left, on the borders of the gar- 
dens, into which they are let as they pass by little currents, 
and so dispersed all over the vast wood. Insomuch that 
there is not a garden, but has a fine quick stream running 
through it, which serves not only for watering the place, 
but is also improved into fountains and other water-works, 
very delightful, though not contrived with that variety of 
exquisite art which is used in Christendom." 

In an excursion near the city he afterwards says : — 

" Returning from hence homewards, we were shewn by 
the way a very beautiful bagnio; and not far from it a coffee- 
house capable of entertaining four or five hundred people, 
shaded overhead with trees, and with mats when the boughs 
fail. It had two quarters for the reception of guests ; one 
proper for the summer, the other for the winter. That de- 
signed for the summer was a small island, washed all round 
with a large swift stream, and shaded over-head with mats 
and trees. We found here a multitude of Turks upon divans, 
regaling themselves in this pleasant place ; there being no- 
thing which they behold with so much delight as greens and 
6 



IDYLL II. 155 

water : to which if a beautiful face be added, they have a 
proverb, that all three together make a perfect antidote 
against melancholy." 

Maundrill, Journey from Aleppo to Jerusalem, 

Thy painted race, fam'd Agassean breed. 

These dogs are much praised for their nose in Oppian's 
Cynegetic, book i. 

Tsj r^a^Ev Ky^ia, QvXk /SgETavwv aioKovuruv, 

Or oryx, &c. 

See the description of this fierce animal, in the Second 
Book of the Cynegetic. 

Bold as their game, &c. 

This description, as well as the following, is taken from 
the Fourth Book of Oppian's Cynegetic. 

For thee, lamented bard, &c. 
The author alludes to Chatterton. 



NOTES 



IDYLL IH. 



On Ogyris* or Taprobana's coast. 

Ogyris, an island in the Indian seas. 

Notwithstanding the more general opinion that Taprobana 
is the island of Ceylon, and to which Robertson is inclined ; 
the situation, size, and shape of Sumatra seem to give it 
the greatest claims to that appellation. The equator is said 
by Ptolemy to divide the island. Agathemerus and ethers 
say it is larger than Britain, and Eustathius in his :c^s//3 X«* 
on Dionysms, calls it TSTgavrTuugoj, mentioning Lychnus, in 
allusion to the lines, 



158 NOTES TO 

Nno-05 TETfaTrXfi^osj ccMrstyavog TaWfo/3av>i, 

The author of the Disquisition concerning ancient India 
notices the affirmation of Strabo, that it was according to 
some reports seven, to others, twenty days' sail from the 
southern extremity of the peninsula, and observes the diffi- 
culty in which the subject is involved by the dubious ac- 
counts of the ancient geographers. Some writers however 
assert it to be Ceylon, as if the point had been well ascer- 
tained, and those too who by no means in other respects 
can be considered as wishing to give the credulous reader 
satisfaction, whether on good grounds or not. Ceylon is 
less than Ireland, and at its nearest coast is about five de- 
grees north of the line. 



Where bristly monsters, &c. 

Ai?t»j ¥tv$VTCiTn jLtEyaQo? WETur h^tyi Je trccvrn 
K>iT£a §;»£? ix^o'iVf EguOjajs fiora, itovra, 
Outlaw 7)X»£aT0K7i>' luxorx' tuv ¥ otej cZk^uv 
Tst§«%ev vwtwv TTEft/xuxETOj oXjcoj a'xav6«j. 
Au5(x£y£wv to* Taidfj, i?u<7<rop.£vot Wfft ttovtov., 



IDYLL III. 159 

Avyy^ou; h TO\ia,ri<raiv . Ivu jusya %ao"/*c& rnvKTUi. 

IloWauu 5'av x«J v*i« auv <£vtoh av^ao - * vuoj 

K«va xaTa€g«f;»£ te§««t«. Dion. Perieg. 596. 

These terrible whales are, I believe, at present seldom 
seen in the Indian seas. 



Round Southern Afric, &c„ 

Herodotus, after saying that Africa was surrounded by 
the sea, observes, " The first person who has proved this, 
was, as far as we are able to judge, Necho king of Egypt. 
When he had desisted from his attempt to join by a canal 
the Nile with the Arabian gulf, he dispatched some vessels, 
under the conduct of Phoenicians, with directions to pass by 
the Columns of Hercules, and after penetrating the Northern 
Ocean to return to Egypt. 

These Phoenicians, taking their course from the Red Sea, 
entered into the Southern Ocean. On the approach of 
Autumn they landed in Libya, and planted some corn in the 
place where they happened to find themselves ; when this 
was ripe, and they had cut it down, they again departed. 



160 NOTES TO 

Having thus consumed two years, they in the third doubled 
the columns of Hercules, and returned to Egypt. 

Herod. Melpom. — Beloe. 

The same historian observes, that according to the Car- 
thaginian account, another voyage was undertaken by Sa- 
taspes, who had been condemned to die, and was allowed 
by Xerxes in lieu of punishment to circumnavigate this great 
continent : he however returned without accomplishing his 
purpose, and was in consequence executed. 



Still cheering with fresh hopes, &c. 

Robertson gives the following account of the progress of 
Columbus: — 

" By the 14th of September, the fleet was above two 
hundred leagues to the west of the Canary Islands, at a 
greater distance from land than any Spaniard had been be- 
fore that time. Tl*ey were struck with an appearance no 
less astonishing than new. They observed that the mag- 
netic needle, in their compasses, did not point exactly to 
the polar star, but varied towards the west ; and as they 



161 



proceeded, this variation increased. This appearance, which 
is now familiar, though it still remains one of the mysteries 
of nature, into the cause of which the sagacity of man hath 
not been able to penetrate, filled the companions of Co- 
lumbus with terror. They were now in a boundless and un- 
known ocean, far from the usual course of navigation ; 
nature itself seemed to be altered, and the only guide which 
they had left was about to fail them. Columbus, with no 
less quickness than ingenuity, invented a reason for this ap- 
pearance, which, though it did not satisfy himself, seemed 
so plausible to them, that it dispelled their fears, or silenced 
their murmurs. 

" He still continued to steer due west, nearly in the same 
latitude with the Canary Islands. In this course he came 
within the sphere of the trade wind, which blows invariably 
from east to west between the tropics, and a few degrees 
beyond them. He advanced before this steady gale with 
such uniform rapidity, that it was seldom necessary to shift 
a sail. When about four hundred leagues to the west of 
the Canaries, he found the sea so covered with weeds, that 
it resembled a meadow of vast extent, and in some places 
they were so thick, as to retard the motion of the vessels. 
This strange appearance occasioned new alarm and disquiet. 
The sailors imagined they were now arrived at the utmost 

M 



162 NOTES TO 

boundary of the navigable ocean ; that these floating weeds 
would obstruct their farther progress, and concealed dan- 
gerous rocks, or some large tract of land, which had sunk, 
they knew not how, in that place. Columbus endeavoured 
to persuade them, that what had alarmed, ought rather to 
have encouraged them, and was to be considered as a sign 
of approaching land. At the same time, a brisk gale arose 
and carried them forward. Several birds were seen hovering 
about the ship, and directed their flight towards the west. 
The desponding crew resumed some degree of spirit, and 
began to entertain fresh hopes." 

Robertson, Hist, of America, Book ii. 



On thee, Magelhaen, next, &c. 

The same writer, after describing the voyage of Ma- 
gelhaen to the straits which bear his name, observes, 

8< After sailing twenty days in that winding dangerous 
channel, where one of his ships deserted him, the Great 
Southern Ocean opened to his view, and with tears of joy 
he returned thanks to Heaven for having thus far crowned 
his endeavours with success. 



IDYIL III. 163 

" But he was still at a greater distance than lie imagined 
from the object of his wishes. He sailed during three months 
and twenty days in an uniform direction towards the north- 
west without discovering land. In this voyage, the longest 
that had ever been made in the unbounded ocean, he suf- 
fered incredible distress. His stock of provisions was al- 
most exhausted, the water became putrid, the men were re- 
duced to the shortest allowance with which it was possible 
to sustain life, and the scurvy, the most dreadful of all the 
maladies with which seafaring men are afflicted, began t© 
spread among the crew. One circumstance alone afforded 
them some consolation ; they enjoyed an uninterrupted course 
of fair weather, with such favourable winds, that Magel- 
lan bestowed on that ocean the name of Pacific, which it still 
retains. When reduced to such extremity that they must 
have sunk under their sufferings, they fell in with a cluster 
of small but fertile islands, which afforded them refresh- 
ments in such abundance that their health was soon re-esta- 
blished. From these isles, which he called De los Ladrones, 
he proceeded on his voyage, and soon made a more im- 
portant discovery of the islands now known by the name of 
the Philippines. In one of these he got into an unfortunate 
quarrel with the natives, who attacked him with a numerous 
body of troops well armed, and while he fought at the head 
of his men with his usual valour, he fell by the hands of 
m2 



164? NOTES TO 

those barbarians, together with several of his principal 
officers." 

Hist. Amer. Book v. 

Gaboto. 

Giovanni Gaboto, employed by Henry the Seventh of 
England, who discovered Newfoundland, and part of the 
coast of the continent adjoining. His object seems to have 
been a new passage to India. 



Tasman, the celebrated circumnavigator of Australasia* 



his wonted tale 



Recounts the Arab. 



This custom of the Arabs is well known to those travellers 
who have passed the desart. 



The Colonean. Colonos was the birth-place of Sophocles, 
as was Salamis that of Euripides. 



16$ 



Such the strain, in silent musing, 
Overheard by Tuscan sage, &c, 

Se dell' uve il sangue amabile 
Non rinfranca ognor le vene, 
Questa vita e troppo labile, 
Troppo breve, e sempre in pene. 

Redi. Bacco in Toscana, 

Can the rose, &c. 

Ov xgivov, ax. T«xjv9oj i<ra£W«t ffvei' B«x%ov. 

Non. Dion. b. xii. 



In distant realm of bright Cathay, &c. 

" The Chinese have no weekly holiday like our Sunday, 
but festivals are kept on the days of the new and full moon; 
in Spring and Autumn, and on the commencement of the 
new year. On the latter occasion particularly there is much 
dissipation, but acquaintances renew suspended intercourse? 
and offended friends are reconciled." 

Staunton. Embassy, V. II. v. 



166 NOTES TO 

After observing that strong and spirituous liquors are 
relished by them, that writer adds, " When the company 
begins to be exhilarated, and some of the party are desirous 
of retiring, the same compulsory devices are described to 
be practised for preventing their departure, or recalling 
them, if already going away, as have sometimes been used 
on similar occasions of convivial merriment in Europe." 



That pellucid Baetis laves. 

The Guadalquiver and its neighbourhood were of old 
celebrated for wine. The clearness of its wave is also no- 
ticed by Martial. 

Bsetis olivifera crinem redimite corona; 
Aurea qui nitidis vellera tingis aquis : 
Quem Bromius, quem Pallas amat ; ceu rector aquarum 

Albula navigerum per freta pandit iter : 
Ominibus laetis vestras Instantius oras 

Intret ; & hie populis ut prior annus eat. 

Non ignorat, onus quod sit succedere Macro. 

Qui sua mentitur pondera, ferre potest. 

Mart. Ep. xcix. lib. xii. 



IDYLL III. 167 

Let old Corcyran sparkle round. 

The wines of Corcyra and of Naxos, the latter so much 
esteemed by Archilochus, were in much request. , 

A then, lib. 1. 



Chryse. Thasos. The wine of this island, like that of 
Byblos, was very fragrant. 

0£«v te t«s x§o«j E^ao-jtEv r>civ pa. 
E* ©aenoy eve%e*j, uxotuis yem Aicc. 

Aristoph. Plut. act. iv. sc. 4. 



Snowy Chios' luscious juice. 

Chian, so much admired in Greece, seems also to have 
been much drank in Italy, and to have been much approved 
of by Horace. He mentions it very often. 



And Byblos steaming sweets profuse. 

EuwJ*!, TETOf UV STEWy, O^sJoy teg OiTTO Xavu. 

Theoc. Id. xv« 



168 



Hesiod recommends this wine to be drank in some shady 
retreat in hot weather, 

uXTvx. tot' Yi$n 
En? iv TET^atfl te <r>o*i, koci Bv£\wo<; oivo<;, 
Ma£a t «,ttoXy«m. HeS. Op. & Dl. 588. 

In Athenaeus, lib. 1. a Thracian wine called B&Xivog is 
mentioned, and some have thought the above the same, and 
that it ought to be so written. See the Scholia and notes 
attached to the word in the two poets, and the conversation 
in the first book of Athenaeus. 



Boy, where coolest runnels flow. 

Quis puer ocyus 
Restinguet ardentis Falerni 
Pocula praetereunte lympha ? 
Quis devium, &c. Ode xi. lib. 2. Hoe„ 



Alban that in cave profound. 

Est mihi nonum superantis annum 

Plenus Albani cadus. Ode xi. lib. 4. Hor» 



169 



Cras bibit Albanis aliquid de montibus, aut de 
Setinis, cujus patriam, titulumque senectus 
Delevit multa veteris fuligine testae. 



Sat. v. Juv. 



Nectar drawn from Massic vine. 

Est qui nee veteris pocula Massici, 
Nee partem solido demere de die 
Spernit, nunc viridi membra sub arbuto 
Stratus, nunc ad aquae lene caput sacrae. 

Odei. Hon. 

Absumit haeres Caecuba dighior 
Servata centum clavibus. 

Ode xiv. lib. 2. Hor, 

Caecuba fundanis generosa coquuntur Amyclis : 
Vitis et in media nata palude viret. 

Epigr. cxv. lib. 13. Mart. 

Surrentina bibis? nee myrrhina picta nee aurum 
Sume : dabunt calices haec tibi vina suos. 

Epigr. ex. lib. 13. Mart, 



170 



Rough Falera, &c. 

At sermo lingua concinnus utraque 
Suavior, ut Chio nota si mista Falerni est. 

Sat. x. lib, 1. Hob. 



But hence the golden chalice bean 

Heliadum crustas, et inequales beryllo 

Virro tenet phialas ; tibi non committitur aurum ; 

Vel si quando datur, custos affixus ibidem, 

Qui numeret gemmas, unguesque observet acutos. 

Da veniam, praeclara illic laudatur iaspis ; 

Nam Virro, ut multi, gemmas ad pocula transfert 

A digitis. Sat. v. Juv* 



Howling to the deep ton'd horn. 

The horrible noise of this frantic rout is usually men- 
tioned by the Greek poets. As Catullus gives some 
admirable lines to this subject, we shall subjoin them. 

At parte ex alia florens volitabat Iacchus, 
Cum thiaso Satyrorum, et Nysigenes Silems, 



171 



Te quaerens, Ariadna, tuoque incensus amore : 
Qui turn alacres passim lymphata mente furebant ; 
Evas bacchantes, evae capita inflectentes. 
. Horum pars tecta quatiebant cuspide thyrsos : 
Pars e divulso jactabant membra juvenco : 
Pars sese tortis serpentibus incingebant : 
Pars obscura cavis celeb rabant Orgia cistis, 
Orgia, quae frustra cupiunt audire profani : 
Plangerunt alii proceris tympana palmis, 
Aut tereti tenues tinnitus asre ciebant : 
Multi raucisonis efHabant cornua bombis, 
Barbaraque horribili stridebat tibia cantu. 

Catull. de nuptiis Pelei & Thetidos, 



NOTES 



IDYLL IV. 



With golden violet, &c. 

Amongst the flowers mentioned by the author of an in- 
teresting tour in Lapland, as belonging to that country, are 
the pyrola uniflora, the lychnis vescaria, the trollius Euro- 
peus, the parnassia, the viola biflora, entirely yellow, and 
the sweet-scented linnea borealis. Pine, aspen, birch, and 
willow in great variety, are the most common woods. Rein- 
deer moss of a yellowish white gives its hue to large tracts, 
but delightful spots are also found, where, he says, the 
flowers of our meadows grow in great luxuriance. At night 
when the sun shines " in all his brightness," is heard the 



174 NOTES TO 

song of the nightingale of the frozen zone. " The tender 
plaints of Philomel do not fix the heart with such deep atten- 
tion as these notes, equally sonorous but more sorrowful 
than hers. He whose soul has been once pierced by those 
dreadful blows of fate, which leave for life an impression of 
melancholy ; he who in the flower of his age has seen what 
was dearest to him in the world expire ; should avoid hear- 
ing these funereal chaunts in the silence of nature by the 
solemn light of a midnight sun." 

Skiold'ebrand, Picturesque Journey to the North Cape. 

Noting the silent hour the Southern Cross. 

" The two great stars which mark the summit and the foot 
of the cross, having nearly the same right ascension, it fol- 
lows that the constellation is almost vertical at the hour 
when it passes the imeridian. This circumstance is known to 
every nation that lives beyond the tropic, or in the southern 
hemisphere. It is known at what hour in the night, in dif- 
ferent seasons, the southern cross is erect or inclined. It is 
a time-piece that advances very regularly near four minutes 
a day, and no other group of stars exhibits, to the naked 
eye, an observation of time so easily made." 

Humboldt's Narrative of Travels in the Equi- 
noctial Regions of the New Continent. 






IDYLL IY. 175 

Lutetia fair resort, &c. Voltaire says of St. Bartholo- 
mew's Night. 

Je ne vous peindrai point le tumulte et les cris, 
Le sang de tous cotes ruisselant dans Paris, 
Le fils assassine sur le corps de son pere, 
Le frere avec la sceur, la fille avec la mere, 
Les epoux expirant sous leurs toits embrases, 
Les enfants au berceau sur la pierre ecrases : 
Des fureurs des humains c'est ce qu'un doit attendre, 
Mais ce que l'avenir aura peine a comprendre, 
Ce que vous meme encore a peine vous croirez, 
Ces monstres furieux de carnage alteres, 
Excites par la voix des pretres sanguinaires, 
Invoquaient le Seigneur en egorgeant leurs freres, 
Et, le bras tout souille du sang des innocents, 
Osaient offrir a Dieu cet execrable encens. 

Henriade. Chant, ii. 

Like sudden startled bats, &c. 

'Cl; 5'ots vvxrsphs /xu%u dvr^x §e&itt<nom 



176 NOTES TO 

'Effxfia? a;cax>jTa k<x,t tvguievra, xeXeuSas. 
Tla.g yia-xv 'SIximvu te poaj xat XevxciSx tet^v, 
Hds waj' HeX*o*o nv\a<;, non Snfj.ov 'Ov=»|4>v. 
'Hi'o-av. 

Hom. Od. lib. xxiv. 

As in the cavern of some rifled den, 
Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene ; 
Cluster'd they hang, till at some sudden shock 
They move, and murmurs run through all the rock. 
So cow'ring fled the sable heap of ghosts, 
And such a scream fill'd all the dismal coasts. 
And now they reach'd the earth's remotest ends, 
And now the gates where Evening Sol descends, 
And Leucas' rock, and Ocean's utmost streams, 
And now pervade the dusky land of dreams. 

Pope's Trans. 

The observations of Aristarchus, Eustathius, and many 
more recent commentators on this white or Leucadian rock 
are sufficiently well known. Those of Barnes on verse 1693 
of the Helena of Euripides, making Britain a receptacle for 
the dead, are less so ; though they are strengthened, as 
Gesner observes in his note on Claudian in Rufinum, lib. 1. 
by the following lines of that poet. 






IDYLL IV. 177 

Est locus extremura qua pandit Gallia littus 
Ocean i prretentus aquis, ubi fertur Ulysses 
Sanguine libato populum movisse silentem. 
Illic umbrarum tenui stridore volantum 
Flebilis auditur qusestus, simulacra coloni 
Pallida defunctasque vident migrare figuras. 
Hinc Dea prostliit, Phoebique egressa sereeos 
Infecit radios, ululatuque aethera rupit. 
Terrifico sensit ferale Britannia murmur, 
Et Senonum quatit arva fragor, revolutaque Tethys 
Substitit, et Rhenus projecta torpuit urna. 

Isaac Tzetzes in his scholia on the blessed islands of Ly- 
cophron 1. 1204, gives the story of the fishermen, who paid 
no tribute on account of being employed in rowing over the 
spirits. When awoke to attend them, on getting on board 
the vessels that were in waiting, they saw no one, but found 
by their oars that they were not empty. The passage was 
instantaneous. On arriving they heard the names of their 
invisible passengers called over, and immediately returned. 

" 3 A^(X!70-0ju.sv(uy jmet* p.i*gov dicrQuvovTCU twv Qvguv, -/.at fyuvvg dxuscnv 
lici to Igyov x.a,\xt?n; dvrag, uvcco-rccvrig $e, kqos tov atysaXov /3»0t£«<7*vj 
ax. stdOTEj 7Toi« ayn aviaq ccvocyKy. ogwcri di dyMTo,q 7raca,o m x.svcci7jJi.svKi; ) 
aXX'a t«j dvruiv, v.iva.r psvroi avOawTrwv, h ode, IkjeXSovtej jcw/mAa-rao-i, 
xeu «io-9avovTKJ j3«ayj twv irXoiuv, wj \\ E7ri£«Twv «^ev« os o^ojiti. 
N 



178 NOTES TO 

poir* di jxica xaT«^y<7tv lij t«v BfErlajnav vyio-ov, fxoX»£> <m ^^avrai Tate 
Idioag vkvcti vVK^n^n xaru^cu cSwctpevoi. KaTa|avTEj di rc^oj t»iv vri(roy> 
waXiv fe^va bgtutn, Quvns $e ax«s<r* twv d\i9EV uTrods^o^Evwv va; 
aW<wv zTrtCoLTa.;, aVafi£)f/.avTW)> avraq xai 7r«T§o9sv xat jawTfofisv, et» dE 
kch e| af»a£, xat te^vtic, Jtea ovo/xaToj twv xaG' Eva xaXsvrwv. ot d£ tstoiv 
S'nQsv aVo^of TJcra^svot, TaAiv iXa^oTEjot? to»j cxa^Etri pa poTro ffgo? 
Taj oixia; avTwy i/TrojTfs^tfoi. 

Ere sage Mohammed through the Sabian world, &c. 

What the Christian religion effected on its diffusion in the 
North-west of Europe, in lessening superstition, and putting 
an end to human sacrifices, the Mohammedan did on its 
progress in the South-eastern regions of the earth. In Chap. 
5 of the Koran the superstitious reverence of certain ani- 
mals is condemned. " God hath not ordained any thing con- 
cerning ' Bahira, nor Sai'ba, nor Wasila, nor Hami ; but 
the unbelievers have invented a lie against God; and the 
greater part of them do not understand." 

In Chap. 6. is mentioned, concerning the idolaters of 

1 These were names given by the Pagan Arabs to certain camels, 
or sheep, that were exempted from common services in honour of 
their gods. (Sale's note), also Prel. Disc. sect. v. 



IDYLL IV. . 179 

Mecca, " How ill do they judge ! In like manner have their 
'companions induced many of the idolaters to slay their 
children, that they might bring them to perdition, and that 
they might render their religion obscure and confused unto 
them. The fear of being reduced to poverty in providing 
for their daughters, was also a reason that urged their 
sacrifice. 

" Some say that when an Arab had a daughter born, if 
he intended to bring her up, he sent her clothed in a gar- 
ment of wool or hair, to keep camels or sheep in the desert ; 
but if he designed to put her to death, he let her live till she 
became six years old, and then said to her mother, Perfume 
her, and adorn her, that I may carry her to her mothers ; 
which being done, the father led her to a well or pit dug for 
that purpose, and having bid her to look down into it, pushed 
her in headlong, as he stood behind her, and then filling 
up the pit, levelled it with the rest of the ground. But 
others say, that when a woman was ready to fall in labour, 
they dug a pit, on the brink whereof she was to be delivered, 
and if the child happened to be a daughter, they threw it 
into the pit, but if a son, they saved it alive." Sale, PreL 
Disc. sect. v. 

E Interpreted idols. 



180 NOTES TO IDYLL IV. 

The sacrifice of their children in consequence of a vow, 
should some benefit be received, as that of having a certain 
number of sons, is said to have been common amongst 
them. 

In the history of Northern Europe, 1 Hacon, King of Nor- 
way, is said to have offered up his son, to obtain of Odin the 
victory over his enemy Harold. 2 Aune, King of Sweden, 
devoted to Odin the blood of his nine sons, to prevail on 
that god to prolong his life. 

Nor ring nor roundelaye, &c. 

Witness those rings and roundelayes 

Of theirs which yet remain ; 
Were footed in Queen Mary's dayes 

On many a grassy playne. 
But since of late Elizabeth 

And later James came in ; 
They never danced on any heath, 

As when the time had been, 

Cobbet's Old Song. The Fairy's Farewell. 

1 Saxo Grammaticus, lib. v. 

2 Wovmius, Mon. Danic. lib. 1. mentioned in the Northern Antiq. 
of Mallet, chap. vii. 

THE END. 

O. WOODFALL, PRINTER, ANGEL COURT, SKINNER STREET, LONDON. 



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